Even my office is a happy space, bringing the ivy and a tiny bromeliad to live in a bubble of glass on a brick wall.

Life, after all, is a work of art.  It’s our own creation, and what we leave behind is the memory of the life we’ve lived… I have to accept that my world is imperfect, often truly mad. Crime, inefficiency, sometimes …

What do you mean, “I live in a bubble?” Read more »

Tagged with: , , ,