Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Nice one, my friend! But just remember, the eyes of the potato see everything . . .

Bleak and windswept, my errant ramblings led me to some time-forgotten vale, where stood a desolate and crumbling mansion; its diamond-leaded windows lit against the pale and ebbing day by fitful guttering candles; its rotting limestone pinnacles cowering low beneath sleet-laden winter skies; its wi...