Fire and Ice
I’ll be the first to admit, I often paint from photographs. Not all of us can hire models or t...
Hear them chirp at the birds, flying from the neighboring roof to the nest in the eaves of the house. Always the hunters, watching the world with their instinctual focused stare, but if they chance to dodge through an open door, they always dart back inside, never wandering far from the food dish.
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