Olive Trees.

Once more I find myself at a place where a long past is a living and breathing beast. It's everywhere around you and I usually find such burden to be a heavy one and need to dilute it with a simpler, more lighthearted, juvenile dose of time. A bit of today and tomorrow that is.

What happens though when this time past is literally living and breathing? I'm talking about ancient olive trees. Centuries old and so unruly and tall by now that you couldn't harvest them, comb and prune them without respect. And like anything else of this age you have to play by its rules. Lay your nets underneath and wait, let even more time pass. After all, that's how they got to be this old.

A Sibling.

Following an uneasy gestation and difficult labor, a little sibling to the 256 Days project was born a few days ago. It's name is The Old World and from the outset it appears as a less bright twin. The shape, layout and genome are similar but under the skin it couldn't be more distinct. There's a much darker side to the young one. A soul grim and misty, in a subtle way.

The link is here once more, take a peek if you will.

Party's Over.

Being Patient.