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A work of poetry about the wind and what it takes with it.

Poetry by Betty and Thomy Il passe sans attendre personne Rapprochant les uns, Eloignant les autres; Ses raisons sont sans doute bonnes... Guérissant certaines blessures En apportant des réponses, Son fil est une drôle de mesure Quelquefois porteur de chance. Parfait en lui-même Il s’auto-complète, Nous comble de nos pertes; Nul n’en reste indemne. Il nous rappelle toujours combien Étant limité, il nous est compté. Une loi stricte que nul n’enfreint, Cycle incessant au coeur

At the rise of fame, Gwynplaine shamelessly chose his dignity.

Starting the year on a positive note, My Wish for You is that you bloom.

Adultery, treason, a tainted legacy. It all started with a 19-year-old girl.

An ode to the moon in the most romantic language

Set up on blind date, Thomas soon discovered what he did not want in a woman; while the world was scheduled to end.

I tested the wrong bag theory when attending the SAFW Student Competition Exhibition. I sense a calling...

I crocheted this little handbag as a reward (or a punishment?) for working super super hard.

On 12 Summer Street, I met Olwethu and Thabiso. They were such darlings.

An ode to this beautiful vessel of flesh. Have you hugged yourself today?

A scandal that almost wrecked a happy (happy?) family. But what did we really expect from Marc-Antoine?

Women give life, women teach, women guide, women live, women love.

What if? What if... your neighbour had it worse?

Some gentle words after hard labour, from me to you.

I accidentally crocheted placemats and coasters out of Natural Jute. Find out more here: