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fun drawing i finished this week :)
Perfect shoot
louis wain
I've been experimenting with a new form of dance...
She looked at the paper and looked up; she looked at the sky and looked down. Life? Literature? One to be made into the other? But how monstrously difficult! For- here came by a pair of tight scarlet trousers- how would Addison have put that? Here came two dogs dancing on their hind legs. How would Lamb have described that? For reading Sir Nicholas and his friends (as she did in the intervals of looking about her), she somehow got the impression- here she rose and walked- they made one feel- it was an extremely uncomfortable feeling- one must never, never say what one thought. (She stood on the banks of the Serpentine. It was a bronze colour; spider-thin boats were skimming from side to side.) They made one feel, she continued, that one must always, always write like somebody else. (The tears formed themselves in her eyes.)
Virginia Woolf, Orlando
Perfect shoot