130531_02

Each of us ‘holds’ in the hands the tools to ‘paint’ that day’s life; most never get acquainted with all them tools buzzing around their hands; hands are used to swap away all the flies/tools that congregate around them; then, after a whole life of successful tool swapping, finally, one is left alone; nothing more to do but to close down shop, let one’s inside go to rot; death is the ‘natural’ reward for a life of killing one’s own tool.

Urban now 130531_02 Henri Durand

Stacking one more upon all preciouses 2013