It always seems that this page is a bit of a work in progress: am I introduing myself, selling myself, or perhaps building a personal myth?
And now you’re here to find out, but isn’t it all so boring to read the same old, same old, so let us cast aside traditional sales pitches and regurgitate whatever forms of desription cross the horizon of my thoughts:
I was born from the cold earth as the crisp autumn leaves flutter to the woodland floor and the cry of the crow in the ancient oak beseeched the Moon to keep its vigil.
In that pellucid light of a lost age I reached toward the weeping city, smothered as it was by the electric smog and the signs of chaos, and with my hand clutched dull reality, my mind disturbed by the quaking hearts that gathered around the demonic light boxes.
So too was I entraced for a time, and as the even-songs played I was lost until Crow appeared to me, his offers like puzzle boxes, his words like silken snares and his promises richer than the vaults of kings. So I became a liar, a thief and a changeling in a time of ignorance, turning pages and travelling until I became both the beast reviled and the saint soon forgotten.
Now there is silence, yet I cannot hold my tongue, for I am the unease that haunts your soul and who rattles the wisps of your chains. Yet there is nothing to fear, for Crow is with us; the mystic father, reverend author and pale bard.
So we bring you welcome from the Roots of the mighty forests, blessings from the distant Stars, and the Gift of a tellers Feather, so come, sit a while and let me tell you a tale of the once upon a future that is already lost, and of the past that never was.
For this is the time that never moves.
And after all, what else are you going to do with eternity?