Pearless

Pears taste so far, far away. Glitzy stones won't replace the fruity smell of flesh fallen from a lovely tree but we can try, we can stand the ache in our bodies, our bones, our chests, and indulge our eyes instead of grabbing the last syringe alive. Familiar names to warm up our always colder hears: Lindsey Wixson, the fishy goddess from Kansas, the golden witch from Wichita and Sophia Neophitou who could turn a stray dog into a fashion icon. The rain is hitting hard as we drop these lines, the sun moved away and the wind waves a hand at you. Despair leaks from everywhere, but smells deliciously real and that's what's count. 10 Magazine seems back from its doom and brings us goosebumps again, that's a thing to note, these days, when all is grey, when flirting with disaster has become the easiest way to go. Donna Trope scored this, scoped it well. Good lenses will never let us down, let"s have some soup and enjoy what remains.