Ad Mo

sriracha and waffles

the sculptor

Hypotrochoid

finding things from the past

and learning proper names
and theories

feathers

thing with feathers

"Hope" is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm— I've heard it in the chillest land— And on the strangest Sea— Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of Me. Emily Dickinson

     what is the right thing to do