Jack Fisher

The mysteries of human connections are too deep for me to stay under too long.  The cynic in me thinks that many of these couples settle for one another.

Swimming, for me, is a bitch. I swim as well as a fat kid waddling through quicksand.

For the new year, I'm going to try and exercise my writing muscles, fast twitch, slow twitch.  I thought that I'd combine my two loves: photography and prose and have a weekly (what can I say, modest goals) of using an interesting photo from Flickr and

I don't like how lists have pervaded the modern consciousness – how we think and present ideas have degraded into lists.

Spotless malls in Hong Kong had corridors filled with Filipino maids and servants picnicking on tarp during the weekends.  Efficient trains in Tokyo were filled with drunk and snoring businessmen.

We didn't get a Christmas tree this year. We strung some lights on our potted palm plant instead, but next year, we're going to have a proper Christmas, with family and candles and everything.