wood s lot is another discrete weblog, admirable because its author is hidden, like the demiurge, behind the links he creates. All the world opens itself to you here; everyday there are new places from which, once again, you can receive the power of beginning. To begin, to rebegin: how pleasant to find openings that redeem afternoons of administration and bureaucracy: look, there is a link to a translation of some of Celan’s poems, and there to a painter whose name you half knew, and there to a photographer whose name you had never heard until it arrived by chance from wood s lot. Everyday it is as though a net has been cast into the ocean of the world wide web; everyday it is dragged in full of wonders.
Lars Iyer's Blog 