Born in the spring of 1861 in a modest East Anglian village on the wooded edges of Bury St. Edmunds, George David Darrow was the son of a gardener and a washerwoman. A solitary child, Darrow showed early signs of a vivid inner world, sketching woodland creatures and imagined spirits on sheets of whatever scrap paper he could find, much of which smelled of fish or meat that the paper had once wrapped. His youth was shaped by the rhythms of rural life and long hours exploring hedgerows, brooks, and ancient groves. Possessed of a quiet, observant nature and an innate gift for drawing, Darrow taught himself the principles of line and light by sketching the creatures and foliage around him. His Father, Henry Darrow, disapproved of his son’s obsession with woodlarking and hoped that his son would take up a respectable trade. As a young teenager, George was apprenticed to a local stone mason, but his tenure didn’t last the summer. George was found to be carving mysterious symbols into the lim...
So many excuses are being tossed around about the civilian massacres going on in Iraq. The excuse that the troops are stressed out and suffering from battle fatigue can not explain away shooting children in the head at point blank range. Does Bush really think the Iraqi people are going to watch their family members be murdered and not take up arms against US forces? You would think Cheney and Rumsfeld would know better since they were in Washington during Viet Nam. Bush, has an excuse. He can't remember where he was during the war.
Comments