föstudagur, maí 21, 2010


Little blue shattering. I have a strange desire to poke my finger into it like a thimble and feel the chalky shred of membrane still clinging to the inside.

fimmtudagur, maí 13, 2010


Paper, from papyrus (Lat.), from papyros (Gk.), perhaps from some older, Egyptian word. Paper from the crushed and moistened boles of stately forest giants. Clearly, it feels good on the gums, even to an animal whose back-more teeth are meant for shearing flesh. He returns gas bills, grocery lists, paperbacks and love notes to their primal pulp.

He is a dreaming beast, however. In his walnut brain he may imagine vellums and parchments between his jaws; he may savor chewy monkish scribblings, psalms and hymns still tasting of lamb.
Hvaðan þið eruð