we want:

songs that would be recited to the ghosts in ancient cathedrals

poetry that would be buried in the earth beside a twisting willow tree

stories that would be told by firelight one late night in rome

pieces scribbled on coffee-stained papers and stuffed into the overflowing pockets of a trench coat

letters written in a sprawling hand to be framed years from now

drawings passed as disguised love notes

essays that would be performed for secret societies at the crack of dawn

paintings that the ancient greeks would plaster onto their walls

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art that feels like - picking up an old paperback that is still warm, sitting in an old leather chair, gluttonous smoking, french black and white films, seeing a deer, the stars at night, falling in love, witnessing the moon rise, stepping into a clearing in the woods, being a detective. the swelling in your heart when you are alone in the art gallery with nothing but the muted sounds of the artworks that clutter the walls. anything that feels brushed with melancholy and other-worlds

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we particularly love (but you are not limited to): history, mythology and old civilisations. transport us back to the ancient greeks and romans. let us revel in words that homer himself would adore. retellings, playing with what we are familiar with and twisting them. themes of yearning and passion, ambition, contemplation.

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