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The word project stealthily contaminated this puzzle like an algae that sticks to a ship sailing our post-industrial zeitgeist. The
various sections of this wesbite, touched
by the flatness and fragmentation of the medium, are reflections of
transitory homes on a journey: the adventure of ceaselessly re-inventing ways to explore the
mistery of a word as old as language, a word encountered in a
long forgotten kiss. Like a Fata Morgana, here and there is the
mood of it - hot ashes of illusion occasionally added to the
slow-burning fire of writing.
 come, bring your nose closer... can you smell the hill, the wind, the green?
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