Nothing I enjoy more than to forget myself, my work, my ponderings, my neuroses, my everending phrases from mid-air. And return to it all whiles later, it feels like dewy skin.
Never considered anything in the outside world a treat, just walking about with a dream in my head.
I know where I stand, I just can't see out. The top could be below me, and I never saw.
About Me
- Leila Rousseau
- Constant complainer, effervescent explainer, road rager, mostly moody, joke laugher, make believer, neverender, air breather and happy if you allow me. This is the incomplete scrapbook of Leila Rousseau's modernly artistic scrapings. Nothing is clear and nothing is really here. We can't all be inspired, and we can't all be interested. Be humble to knowledge, as it will always be greater and more fierce than ego and explanation. Everything here is my own, but I wonder whose I am. So I could pass on the credit, when I might make someone giggle, a little.