created from a few select pieces of a recently completed jigsaw … why should the fun stop when the last piece has been placed!
The original posts
I’m not a reader by nature, yet I’m surrounded by books.
Dark and delightful, with a little bit of worry for good measure.
I’ll admit it; I was enchanted by the medieval in my younger days.
Too much similarity. I scream for difference.
The image on the box is not the image on the jigsaw. Some translation is required!
I am uncomfortably reminded of how the jigsaw puzzle encourages the idea of everything its rightful place.
What world have I entered? The eyes keep bobbing to the surface as I sort through the pieces.
The streets and park are in place. The harbour remains; each piece the same shade of blue.
It’s not what I thought! It seems this introvert needs to embrace the unexpected.
I’m re-constructing reproductions of two artists who made a living from constructions .