I’d finished my fifth picture album four days ago, its name is Sherbet. In my LINGOES dictionary, there are two meanings of Sherbet, and I prefer the America one, of that sherbet is like ice cream but made with fruit juice, sugar, and water, (the British meaning is that a sweet dry powder that tastes fizzy and is eaten as a sweet). Well, it sounds aromatic and delicious, doesn’t it? Say about why I chosen the word for the album, I met it just by accident, when I was browsing a dictionary, (I like it, because I can always meet some interesting words). However, there is nothing deeper between the single word and my pictures—it just a name. You see, anything of we have does need a name, or we would think it lacks some exist-feeling. Any word your mind catch up could be a name, and you named something by the word(s), then this stuff becomes perfect to you. There is such the consciousness of that you do know it belongs to you. No matter of that how absurd the name is: Kipper or Bench for a cat, Police or Genesis for a band, or Opera for a browser (^o^). Naming is a wonderful program, after it some unrelated conceptions got linked, so the namers and (or) the owners accept them into their lives. Everything got perfect, harmonic.
Hey, what did I say here? Ok, just think it an useless trivia narration.