My dream. His brush sails smoothly across his white canvas, the early morning glow of a midwinter’s morning casts a perfect golden glow upon his work and the birds chirp in the canopies of
Continue ReadingImagery and Narrative become one
My dream. His brush sails smoothly across his white canvas, the early morning glow of a midwinter’s morning casts a perfect golden glow upon his work and the birds chirp in the canopies of
Continue Reading