He drank moon shadows.. And his steps were reflected with the sound of saxofone... His life was like on a black and white photograph... Ruins of an old city covered with snow.. Lonely streets.. Dark shadows.. He was sitting on the cold marble steps.. Hig black colar lifted... His voices, so various... are rushing about the walls like an echo.. Eyes are shining with blue ice... Air is terribly cold... But there is a scent of narcissus... Snow is so white, like porcelain splinters... Light blue air flooded everithing.. A dark silhouette comes from it.. Cold fingers touch water.. What had happend with this place? I've been away for so long...

Text Rene Cler

David Bowie still form "Laburinth" used for the collage.