Black coffee and lines. A long Sunday rehearsal.
Really? was written over the top of the painting over of a terrifying (amazing) human sized demon piece of graffiti. I like to think that the weeping dude with the sponge is equally related.
Sunspots at dusk on my way to, yet again, rehearsal.
It was Waitangi Day and as such a holiday. We gathered at the Southern Cross for Megan’s birthday drinks. There are beautiful chandeliers at the Southern Cross.
I do wish I had the time to sit on this seat by the shore in Eastbourne.
Buskers by the waterfront. Sometimes they don’t completely bother me.
Wrist stamp from the night before – we’d been to see one of my brothers-in-law’s band, Neko Ne Zna, perform.