“Let us go to the shore; there the waves will kiss our feet. With mysterious sadness the stars will shine down on us.” Aleksey Pleshcheyev (1825-1893)

The Winter Palace sleeps in a cold blue dawn of stillness. Oh that it could sleep forever like this, frozen in time. Hard is the soil. Still is the air Gentle the sky And when the morning breaks that it should stay undisturbed. Oh morning do not come and bring your horror. But morning broke…

Imagine two realities intertwined but at one time separate. Everything that’s possible happening simultaneously but happening in an illogical order.

Seize today, for none of our tomorrows are guaranteed.