dancing about architecture.
I totally danced at Tate Modern’s hour-long-sweaty-crack-fest. Something of a rebirth, courtesy of mobile clubbing. I wore my orange hexicon t-shirt for exactly this sort of “Where’s Wally?” situation.
I totally danced at Tate Modern’s hour-long-sweaty-crack-fest. Something of a rebirth, courtesy of mobile clubbing. I wore my orange hexicon t-shirt for exactly this sort of “Where’s Wally?” situation.
