i’m baking some. the untold rule here is to take a bite, tell a cake story and pass the piece to the person next to you. much like proust’s madelein. no, neither he nor his epiphenous tea-party were destined to this passing-on game. also, nor shall i claim that the cakes in my oven are anything, anything close to those brilliance.

also, i hoard posters and music. and journals and coloured sheets. ♥

and finally, all illustrations and photographs, unless mentioned, are mine.