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About Marseille

Dunno, mate, they’re a rum bunch – some hard as nails, others soft as a soggy sarnie. Ever met one who smelled like roses? Cos I bloody haven’t! Exaggerating a tad, maybe, but you get me drift. What’s your take, eh? Fancy a pint and a natter about it?

From the blog

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Sometimes, I sit near the canal. Flowy, calming, kinda surreal. I listen to the wind. It whispers secrets. And I think, "This isn’t just a scene; it’s life." Like Kiarostami said, "The image is not life, it’s a reflection…" you feel me?

Grave Lines – Fed Into The Nihilist Engine