Mother Courage: The beautifully crazy world of art
In which artwork lives on refrigerators.
One is a little teary at bedtime. Not particularly fine-tuned to recognising the emotional tribulations of others (as babies, I never could tell the hungry cry from the dirty nappy cry from the overtired cry from the upset cry from the plain angry cry), I have nevertheless amassed some experience with this one.
There's either a full moon, or somebody's upset her. If it's the latter, I won't hear about it yet. But some time...
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