The Finest Of Pleasures Are Always The

I Would Have Written You, Myself, If I Could Put Down In Words Everything I Want To Say To You. A Sea Of Ink Would Not Be Enough.' 'but You Built Me Dreams Instead.

I Thought A Circus Environment Would Be An Interesting Venue To Explore, Where You Didn't Just Have One Tent With Three Rings And A Show Going On But Where You Could Explore Different Things In Different Tents.

I Saw In Details While She Saw In Scope. Not Seeing The Scope Is Why I Am Here And She Is Not. I Took Each Element Spearately And Never Looked To See That They Never Did Fit Together Properly

I Wished For Her,” He Says.

There Is A Movement Happening, A Quiet One. A Low-profile, Low-resolution Revolution. Comprised Of Writers And Dreamers, Of Guerrilla Artists And Thought-ninjas. Those With Something To Say. They Communicate Through Text Inscribed On True Public Spaces, Rather Than Blogs And Forums. Choosing Fewer Words, Even Without Being Bound By 140 Character Limits. Using Ink Instead Of Pixels. Sending Messages In Living, Breathing Space. Pens Scream Louder Into The Void. Even If Permanent Ink Is Not Aptly Named.