School starts tomorrow and I have to get up early, but all I can think about now is just another local concert that my classmate’s friend is going to.
“How beautiful it is here, to be sure, but how difficult to paint! I can see what I want to do quite clearly but I’m not there yet. It’s so clear and pure in its pinks and blues that the slightest misjudged stroke looks like a smear of dirt.”
Morning at Antibes, Claude Monet