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Meryl Streep To Portray The Worst Opera Singer Ever In Upcoming Role
Streep’s latest acting project takes her to a new dimension of roles, portraying a woman not known for greatness but rather the opposite. Florence, a biopic about the life of Florence Jenkins Foster, will examine a woman considered to be the worst opera singer of all time.
By D Grant Smith

“Deadline first reported the story but left room for whether the biopic picture would be produced as a drama or comedy.”

Watercolor based on the Tuscan landscape I saw near Florence Italy over the summer. I painted the original to give to my Grandma Rose right before she went into Hospice to brighten up her hospital room. She lost her ability to speak from the disease that killed her, but every time a new arriving family member came into her hospital room, she would point to my painting and then to me, and one of the last things she spelled out for me with her letter board was that she loved the painting and that she loved me. I miss her a lot. The name Tuscan Rose is in honor of her memory. (Prints are available on my Redbubble and Society6)

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FLORENCE WELCH SINGING ABOUT BALLS IN HER MOUTH. FUCKING CLICK ON IT BECAUSE IT WILL MAKE YOUR DAY

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Stunning Architectural Illustrations Hidden Behind Empty Silhouettes of Other Structures

Scotland-based artist Minty Sainsbury detail-oriented work reveals stunning structures hidden behind the silhouettes of other buildings. The meticulous depiction of each brick, window, decorative surface deliver a breath-taking photorealistic and classical account found in architectural art. By dividing the buildings’ full structure in unlikely places, Sainsbury brings an abstract element to a traditional sketch. 

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To give yourself over to another body
That’s all you want really
To be owned and consumed by another
To swim inside the skin of your lover
Not to have to breathe, not to have to think
But you can’t live on love, and salt water’s no drink.

                                                                  You’re dying of thirst so we feast on each other
                                                                  The seas are still a violent mother
                                                                  The blood run down your pores like water
                                                                  Each wave a lamb led to the slaughter
                                                                  And like children that she just can’t teach,
                                                                 You break, and break, and break,
                                                                 And break ourselves upon the beach.