As the last of the dried, crippled leaves fall from the trees I contemplate my unsettled heart. I have been hiding in the softness of my bubble, a place where the uncertainty of great lands have no reach. In this moment there are many things I could reach for to find comfort in this turbulence. Art seems to always open a window to inspiration. So I will listen to his voice. The foundation of their music began in the every evolving climate of Iceland. The grit, the soul of this band plays heavy on my mood. Somber and hope. So I will let the sound inspire me through this death of greatness and into the state of retrograde.
"Design is conceived when an inherent need to be creative manifests itself into physical or visual form."