Kobi - ProfilesArchive

About Me

Raised on short summers and long winters.Child of the moon.Like to travel often.I love Persian rugs especially the flying kind.I write short stories.
Anthroposophy.Literature.Medieval maps.
Lover.Cellos.Bike euphoria.Josh Kalis.Kevin Ayers. SCRABBLE.

My Interests

The Mid-West. Great Ghosts. The written word. People watching. Old bound books. letters.Language barriers and curiosity. Ink and paper. Words. Wordplay. Wordlessness. Typewriters. Old photographs. Public art. Found objects. Poetry. Paris. Very obscure four track recordings. Heartfelt rambling dissertations. Anthroposophical conversation. Playing drums with brushes instead of sticks.

Music:

The rain dancing on my roof at midnight.

Books:

Sylvia Plath.
Miranda July.

My Blog

I could moonwalk my pretty feet to your door.

I could moonwalk my pretty feet to your door. I could hang about and tan my tobacco fingers in your window. I could number up my days and minus those I spent staring at the ____________, of your______...
Posted by Kobi on Sun, 26 Nov 2006 11:57:00 PST

The poppies are all grown knee deep by now, the blossums have fallen.

Endings are the seeds for beginnings Tomorrow will come in time Even in hopelessness lies a seed of hope And even a small seed can climb But the little seed has to give up its past on In its voyage to...
Posted by Kobi on Tue, 14 Nov 2006 09:18:00 PST