It’s me and a set of keys

During the week-that-never-was (i.e. Hell Week Version N), our flat Bora saw a lot of friends come and go to relax and/or to study. One of those days the resident keyboard was whipped out. And then after everyone left, I put myself to the task of playing in my natural mediocre fashion. I can only play maybe…

the ephemeral life

It was a quick affair. My darling mother asked, “what do you want?”. I said a bento box, please, ebi tempura. And in a blink of an eye all I had left was this: This says a lot more about my life than I would like. Fast, furious and quiet; burning moments that fly too…