little dreams

Our street

peek a boo

hands

Fire

say one word and write about it

Fire
Older than time , dances becomes blue ,orange, red and any other colour you wish to see .
Frightens, so full of power ,flames grow and slowly warm your soul and makes you feel one with everything that has ever been known.
Reunites people, no matter where, what, or who,
fire stays the same
feeds bellys, forget your troubles around the fire, feel heat, lights the darkest freezing night, everything will be alright.
The sun is made of it, lovers feel like they are on fire, writers inspire themselves from flames.
no shame, no blame, just the impermanance of fire
which always comes to an end of ash and they next day begins again.
-Rosey

Fire
To be feared yet to be revered.
life giving, life taking, but always brings warmth. It gives light but if you ask too much it burns.
Like love it captures you, but its fleeting.
In one breath or moment, its extinguished.
once someone told me death is a life extinguished, without the possibility of life after death or an infinite place for your soul to dwell.
That word extinguish is as powerful as its counterpart fire.
I cannot comprehend a true end, an infinite darkness, but when i watch a flame die I can for a moment comprehend destruction, end, extinguishment without the possibility of a continuation.
IM not even sure what fires made of but its as brilliant as water and probably structurally similar.
Both create, both destroy.
And is fire really blue? or is that merely how my eyes receive it...and it dances! Like water it dances,
it stretches, it breathes.
-Kanchie

Baby at Namo Buddha

This is our favorite restaurant, home away from home, eternal meeting point. We marked out territory.

two heads are better than one

Often when we feel inspired we find ourselves at Sams pub with a pen and paper. Since this blog is not just to document stencils and other adventures, but also our words and songs, we thought we would share some of it with you.

Part 1 (Kanchie)
Do we breath?
Sometimes i feel the responsibility of breathing,
and other times i am merely breath, at the whim of the universes ancient lungs,
pushing and pulling me to where I am supposed to be.
Similarly, is love a choice?
or does it choose us?
Ive known both.
I suppose thats the beauty of the infinite.
There is no one answer.
Opposites can coexist, and they do.
In their opposition, they are complete.
Im constantly waiting for some realization,
a moment of Salvation.
But what if there is no "Aha" moment?
What if sometimes we are the breather, and sometimes the breath?
What if we are a series of realizations?
and in that series, in the wax and wane, is the unity of it all.
The trick is to remember that when you are on one side, there is always the other.
It will come, and when it does, it doesnt mean what you previously were, be it the lungs or the breath,
was any less right or wrong good or bad.
Part 2 (rosey)
And maybe those opposites dont really exist and instead complete each other,
like how white and black give birth to all the colours in the rainbow,
how shadows are born from light and vise-versa.
how when I am down you lift me up,
we are all different expressions of the infinite, constantly bleeding and healing,
leaving behind our traces and scars, Tattoos of time.
Forgetting to remember to forget and remember all over again.

proof

Babies

We finished baby owl, and cut out some words to go along with it. After much contemplation we decided on the word, or symbol, "Ziero" to go along with our stencils. a cheesy combination of both our names, but adding a little 0 to all our owls is sort of a signature. pictures coming soon.

Birth

After much time together, laughter, tears, dreams, mischief, and friendship, we have decided to share our creations: be it poems, songs, useless lists, nostalgic stories, and photos. Enjoy it as much as we've enjoyed making it. p.s. this is mostly for our moms.