one night at home with the loved ones was all i was allowed: i'm back in london 26hrs later and have checked into a strange smelling hotel room with these 3 masks on the wall at the foot of my bed.
if i was more susceptible, i might be weirded out by these masks...but i'm too tired to be: the combination special last night (full moon + jet lag) has left me knackered in unusual ways.
sarah, steve and harriet were down for the night.
and after a sunday morning (real) shoot 'em up for me and steve, we all went to the farmer's market restaurant in canterbury for a delicious lunch.
two shoots tomorrow.
one starting early, hence i'm here in in room 459 pondering which is more tragic: dinner for one in the hotel restaurant or room service (which i always hate).
i'm too tired to call and/or meet up with any of my friends.
sleepy perou
what the four fucks?
did someone actually, consciously design this 'carpet'?
did someone else choose it over other designs and then pay to buy a load of it?
how does this happen?
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