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Oct. 1st, 2008

butterflies

"Painting is poetry that is seen and not heard."

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1. 2. 3.


I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
~William Wordsworth, "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud," 1804



I want to pick up a paintbrush, get out my watercolour set and start painting flowers.

(Too bad I have to study now because I have mid-terms tomorrow and an assignment due on Fri.)
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