All of them. Along with the rest and, basically, whatever I could find.

Mesmerised by this one. Seduced by the reverse 's' curve that leads the eye from top left to bottom right - holding one in the centre of the image where we find space to receive . . . silence, insight, peace, creative spirit, as do you. A gift. Your labyrinth is that. And more. Bravo.

'Welcome, my son, to the machine.' Which is simply another name for meat grinder. So many kinds of wrong.
It is no life at all.

A welcome splash of colour in last week's otherwise predictably grey inbox. We could all use a little more light at this point. Always good to see you whenever, and wherever you choose to appear.
But I'm not following you to Spain - that would be just . . . weird.

I'm feeling a little bit twitchy over that sink. It's just wrong.

A passionately eloquent response to an atmospheric, elegiac album wholly deserving of such. It was a pleasure to read yesterday, inspiring a YT session to hear Downtown Lights - a favourite - and other tracks.
Writer John Connolly put Hats on my radar some years ago. That was a good thing.

'Little Otik'. Once seen never forgotten.

A fair and proper response. I mean, why would one not? His 'Madly Deeply' diaries are deliciously indiscreet. Just an all round delight.

Of the three singles released - all quite different - this is the favourite, Michelle. Liking the brass. :)