Something solid for the soul. No arguments, just easy, digestible compositions of stone and sky.

We prop the titans of our history with flimsy structure, temporal and arrogant. A weight of stone and time rests for a moment on metal crutches.

A distant relative emerges from the waters, scrapes its long neck and plunges its life into a restless rust.

A ringing of idyllic bells in the idyllic Santorini. Delicate shapes caress the sky.

Another piece is paved, hits the road, flies open, starts a revolution and so on and so forth.

Back, with a dive into a journey within a Kandinsky.

An end to dazed confusion.

A monument of edifice and stability.

An animal of spine and purpose.

Wings spread to fly.