I like to think my photographs can do to a monitor what an enthusiastic soprano can do to a wine glass, for roughly the opposite reasons. You can test this theory out by visiting those pages dedicated to my new themes of FenLand (321K) or The Village (321K), or revisit some earlier collections such as 1996 (315K), Environment (246K), People (318K), or Sculpture.
If those photographs haven't driven you into a depression at the dreadful content of the Web, then maybe these poems will. You can peruse These Words, They Were Not Said; Leicester Square; Cigarette Politic; It must be Christmas; Chopin & The Chilli Wars, which includes a reading; or Thirty Hours Near The Western Isles, which includes a musical setting. Perhaps you should escape to Rosemary Culley's online poetry index.
If you're still unwilling to contemplate adding a taste filter to your browser, then maybe you should listen to this music. If your resilience has remainder despite this pressure, then I suspect only the supernatural can sort you out, which probably means you should visit the page dedicated to my goddess (with new photographs).
If you really want to comment on any of this stuff, then you're more than welcome to overcome good sense and send some feedback now.
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