these things are forms of flight

I’d like to introduce Varda. She’s not really a tom boy like I imagined but I think we get along swell ‘cause we both have a thing for acessorising. Me, I like hair scarves, earrings, necklaces, belts and scarves. She like baskets, bells and flashing lights. We both attempt to be practical, she carries a pump at all times, and I dangle my swiss army knife on my key chain because I like the weighty feel (and like to self-sufficiently flick off a beer lid). This is where we split. She likes pink and thus her name is Varda, meaning pink in Hebrew. I on the other hand love red and green but not together unless its Christmas.

Here she is beached amongst the orangey brown leaves in my favourite place in Bra. I discovered it on my first day and have been taking refuge on the hill ever since. She lay on her side, I lay on my back and we chilled…

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A little update on the pink lass, she’s a little on the hefty side. So she gives me the sweats, which when you think about it, probably isn’t such a bad thing since my day of education was solely made up of digesting sweet fatty italiano meats.