My father was the iron, steel and concrete was the man. This week would have been 76 years old. It

will release fronter my father's wine cellar expedition thinking. Questions myself futility sand in the wind Attila József Christmas time East-West Gateway chaos requests privacy NLP exercise psychologist Nicholas Radnóti hope no man's land travel fronter magic words drift creation deception restart holiday road trip
My father was the iron, steel and concrete was the man. This week would have been 76 years old. It's been 3 years since he left. Probably came from within, perhaps accidental, perhaps born of compulsion this pact, alliance. Individuality, like the nature of these materials, and the work it had built environment from them. A firm renowned for items of different sizes of stones, fronter and a mixture of a smelter burned material powder-fine dust gravel fronter ground ... Sometimes fronter some coal, if present in the form of iron steel ... and the beginnings of water, temporarily, to combine push these few ingredients a formable material. Somehow the memory of me is petrified. I can hardly do anything with it. Just like life, the memories can be hard to get close. But it would be good but not what I got it for a ride. If I had to describe myself as material, we prefer the grass, the trees, the cane, but most of all the words that come to mind. No spoken words, but rather described. The writing of the letter. Sometimes the movements. Most of all, drawing the air in a circular motion of the hand. It is difficult now to formulate my thoughts. Disintegrate into small pieces fragmented inner world. Although, as the Sufis say, every day is God's gift. Even this one.
2014 (5) March (2) January (3) 2013 (20) December (3) Christmas iron, steel, concrete, fronter grass, wood, reeds, words ... I give violin lessons, I'll buy! August (1) April (5) January (1) March (10) 2012 (5) July (2) June (2) May (1) 2011 (2) November (2)