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The Wheel
Through winter-time we call on spring,
And through the spring on summer call,
And when abounding hedges ring
Declare that winter’s best of all;
And after that there s nothing good
Because the spring-time has not come —
Nor know that what disturbs our blood
Is but its longing for the tomb.
W. Yeats

Rosa Picnic

Born in Angola, lives in Lisbon. Loves to experiment art at all forms. Rosa Picnic’s experimental digital collages are surreal and eerily beautiful. She loves to play with pastel colors and portraiture. Artistic experiences, abstracts, digital collage and fun.

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