Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Definiitely out on a limb. A fragile limb.
ReplyDeleteNice.
ReplyDelete...be careful out on that limb.
ReplyDeleteCute!
ReplyDeleteI am pretty sure this was a stalk of wheat. It was fun to try to draw.
ReplyDeleteCute mouse 🐁
ReplyDeleteHe looks happy.
ReplyDeleteHe is in for a fall because that stalk is never going to hold up under his weight, however small he may be. Fun art today, Granny
ReplyDeleteAnnie :)
Andrea @ From the Sol