The Alchemist of Senses
The canvas refused him. It had refused him for three weeks, standing in the corner of his studio like a silent accuser, white and pristine and demanding something he could no longer find. Julian Ashworth stood before it with a brush in his right hand and a half-empty bottle of absinthe in his left, and the space between the brush and the canvas felt like the space between two versions of...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 4 Visualizações 0 Anterior