MarkoBriarbone

MFA student and writer over here! To be an artist is the only profession that
celebrates what it is to live a life.

An old soul, jazz and blues junkie, film buff, explorer, coffee-addict, and bookworm who is up for a laugh.

John Clare knew me:

I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the self-consumer of my woes—
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed