Lazy Gramophones Journals

Shouldn't we speak a little more softly afloat the breeze, in case words like memories conspire to break this, reclaim our hearts. Locks of chaos fall, dance upon her neck, arc of chin and that quick inhalation of breath; a labyrinth of limbs. Shouldn't we pay a little more attention cling a little tighter to this skimming stone's mast, for thoughts perchance to kiss, so often surpassed amid the mesh of rings flowering so fast. An angel's wings, the raising of her arms the curl of her lips, soil slipped from view. I love you. Two roots torn from the ground. Living proof, our rebellion. Motionless for now, her petals... read more

Over the past few years we have organised quite a few events in various places. I've bought some of the promotional flyers together from these events for your perusal.... read more