Two moments from this weekend. Oh, and I am beginning to love Tennyson.
I spent a long time last night looking at scholarships to art schools. I'm dreaming of being in a studio in the mornings...
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot...
-Alfred, Lord Tennyson, ("The Lady of Shallot")
It was raining when I woke up this morning.
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