A sincere artist is not one who makes a
faithful attempt to put on to canvas
what is in front of him, but one who tries to create something
which is,in itself, a living thing.
faithful attempt to put on to canvas
what is in front of him, but one who tries to create something
which is,in itself, a living thing.
Once she had stepped off the school train and was picked up at the station by her twin, Tanna had spent most of her first day back sleeping. She had spent the past few nights packing, grading, and cleaning sleep hadn't been quite important. But as soon as her head touched her pillow she was out for nearly ten hours of uninterrupted sleep. Then when she awoke she went straight to her studio taking the time to clean all her instruments and say hello to her ghostly portrait informing her of all that had happened with her at school and she in turn told her all manners of gossip she had heard around town. By the time she had semi-organized her work bench and pottery wheel she was nearly bursting with extra energy wondering which project to start first when she heard a knock on the door. Curious, Tanna walked over to open it and gave a large smile and even an impulsive hug when she saw who it was. "Joey! I wasn't expecting you over..." the artist gave a blush when she looked down to see bare feet (she had taken off her sandals when cleaning out her oil based paint jars, slightly dusty top, and she was sure she had a light smudge of color on her cheek.
[Wearing: Lounging] [With: Joey] [Where: My studio] [Feeling: Ecstatic] [Thinking: Awwwwwwwww!]