spent the afternoon roaming around a small museum within the British library, containing among other things, the original magna carta. It is emboldening to see a handwritten poem by Sylvia Plath and others, literary immortals that in fact, crossed out whole lines of their poems, adding and eradicating words throughout. We were all once only human, deified by the printing press and, ultimately, the spell check.
I'm really liking these black and white landscapes you've been shooting. Very stark but beautifully composed.