I decided to spend my Sunday by visiting the historical Wolston house in Wacol Brisbane.
It was a lovely way to spend my day.
Walking up the back stairs I felt a solid finger poke me in the back of the neck. I turned around to see my mum standing behind me who insisted it wasn’t her, there were no other people around just us two.
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About dixiemakesastatement
21 years old, Living in Brisbane and Studying diploma of visual arts.
My blog is like a visual diary everything that inspires or intrigues me, gets posted.
I post my own paintings/drawings which are results of my inspirations.
I do not take myself seriously. I love art more than most things, I just hate the assholes of the art industry.
"All artists are willing to suffer for their work. But why are so few prepared to learn to draw?"
— Banksy
View all posts by dixiemakesastatement
It was a lovely way to spend my day.
Walking up the back stairs I felt a solid finger poke me in the back of the neck. I turned around to see my mum standing behind me who insisted it wasn’t her, there were no other people around just us two.
