For years I misremembered the end of that poem "to the ever-changing moon his ever-changing eyes." I went and checked the version that ends the play of the same name and it's not like that there, either. Wonder how that got in my head.
I always wanted to meet a woman in a Technicolor dream coat she had made " Covered with embroideries. Out of old mythologies" - An old bowling jacket perhaps, with leather diamonds in yellow and red and shapes and fragments of shapes lifted from a Kandinsky painting.
Yeats was a badass.
Cats are great to photograph. I'm often surprised with the pictures.
Cats deserve all the attention and more.
For years I misremembered the end of that poem "to the ever-changing moon his ever-changing eyes." I went and checked the version that ends the play of the same name and it's not like that there, either. Wonder how that got in my head.
I always wanted to meet a woman in a Technicolor dream coat she had made " Covered with embroideries. Out of old mythologies" - An old bowling jacket perhaps, with leather diamonds in yellow and red and shapes and fragments of shapes lifted from a Kandinsky painting.
Yeats was a badass.
Cats are great to photograph. I'm often surprised with the pictures.