Chapter V: LXXXI
Sometimes you burn the finest grapevine shoots for your black paint, sometimes you just grub around in the oven.
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Sometimes you burn the finest grapevine shoots for your black paint, sometimes you just grub around in the oven.
I’m glad to see that whatever disagreements Mus had with his father, he still loved him and wants a memento about him.
That loss might be too raw for him even to contemplate….
She’ll be sorry she said she was busy. And I’m htinking he want a portraiot of Menander.
You may be right. but Mus does not have a base to start with and memory is fickle.
“Memory is fickle”…a very poignant thought in the context of a world before selfies.
I can remember the high school buddies that have since died but I cannot recall their faces. Not without the aid of the yearbook.
I have been told that charred antler makes a superior black pigment when mixed with gum arabic for miniatures.
I do believe I know someone who often has bits of antler in his workshop… 😀
I hear they’re stinky when burnt….
Is that a lamb in that bag in panel 2? Looks like little hoofed feet. 🙂
I reckon they’re about to get cooking like these fellows:
A kid or a lamb. Good eating, for all your feasting or sacrificial needs. Poor kid or lamb, though.