colors that float like perfumes in the amber air

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in the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia

Out of the bosom of the Air
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.
-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow



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it is snowing heavily outside, a blizzard is brewing. and when the snow stops falling, the perfect winterscape. like a blanket covering the earth and removing its impurities. this is my favorite season and when it's over, i mourn for it's passing.

so i am sitting in my room and i have matt's flannel shirt draped around me. i can feel the warmth from it, his love. he sent me a lovely package consisting of sweet items and one of them is displayed here. yes, another wonderful drawing! it looks like a grecian artifact, as if he had went on a excavation and found this enchanting mask etched with ornate flowers. i was inspired by this and he inspires me in a way that can not be matched by anyone. the translation of one artform to another is exciting to me. One Lily's drawing of one of my photographs is an example.




love love love,
lisa