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It has often been pointed out that V. Nabokov killed and impaled the most beautiful things in his life - tender butterflies tenaciously stalked and smothered all over the wide wide world. La Vogdesa and I make our living by locating beautiful images and transforming them through media and by fire to ceramic tile and botticino stone. At the last moment the pieces are reassigned by a wee act of commerce, and are then bound for backsplashes, murals, tabletops, lacquerbox inlays, framed wall art, poem-folio, and finger-and-hand-tangible bridges to Rembrandt, Tamara de Lempicka, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Dan Bacich, and several dozen artists who are insufficiently published.
Readers may wish to wing their hearts to our anticamera.
Stolen kisses.
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