Recensione D O M A su Echoes and Dust

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If you stare at a wild sea smashing into rocks for an extended period of time, the churning maelstrom takes on new life-forms. The lumpy swell barging into land becomes the back of a clumsy whale. That wave fanning metres into the air becomes a dragon’s frill. The spray from a whitecap is Neptune himself, spitting anger through his beard.


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