Unmixed pleasure and inward doubts
I am temperamentally one of those who, in acknowledging the inspiration and influences ofothers, is forced into a recognition of my own poor efforts. This has been a year when, for me, self doubt grew swiftly like penicillin in a laboratory mould. Incubation started when I read an exiting, though somewhat eccentric, book on collecting and collectors, intriguingly subtitled «An Un ruly Passion».
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