Once in a while, I can't help but feel like light fluff whenever I encounter hapless, tragic souls ala Vincent of Starry Night. Maybe 'cause I'm not a diligent journal keeper *ahem, ahem* and scrapbooker (really not the type; would make a bad historian). Nevertheless, I can safely (once was hesitant to) name myself "artist" for the price of being
(
Read more... )
Comments 2
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment