Dear Marta,
I dreamed a dream of futile love,
a faraway heart I eternally crave;
With hearts that glow white as dove,
Shakespeare wakes from his solemn grave.
To tell this tragedy so perfect and true.
as u may have noticed already (which is probably no one...so i'm writing to myself) i haven't been submitting any deviations for who knows how long. That's because i have started to work on some paintings and charcoal drawings on A3 sheets, and unfortunately i don't really have a digital camera which means i won't be submitting anything for a while.