plus qu’hier moins que demain

Shooting with a faulty cammie.

He fell as gently as a tree falls.

. . . but seeds are invisible. They sleep deep in the heart of the earth’s darkness, until some one among them is seized with the desire to awaken. Then this little seed will stretch itself and begin–timidly at first–to push a charming little sprig inoffensively upward toward the sun.

If you could fly to France in one minute, you could go straight into the sunset, right from noon. But on your tiny planet, my little prince, all you need do is move your chair a few steps. You can see the day end and the twilight falling whenever you like . . .

Where I live everything is so small that I cannot show you where my star is to be found. It is better, like that. My star will just be one of the stars, for you. And so you will love to watch all the stars in the heavens . . . they will all be your friends.

“Men?” she echoed. “I think there are six or seven of them in existence. I saw them, several years ago. But one never knows where to find them. The wind blows them away. They have no roots, and that makes their life very difficult.”

No photoshopping [except for cutting off this ugly pink line which appeared on the top of every photo], no enhancing of colours, no nothing. All taken with a cammie which chose the absolutely worst time to break down on me, but I made do with what I had. [Quotes taken from The Little Prince.]

s t a r m | s t April 24th, 2007

• the arty-farty babe , the lost traveller