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Niagara on the Lake, Ontario, Canada
My virtue is that I say what I think, my vice that what I think doesn't amount to much.

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Being William Morris

On this day in 1896, William Morris died, at the age of sixty-two. Morris was one of the most talented and respected figures in the Victorian Era, but the superhuman range and pace of his vocations -- painter, architect, designer (stained glass, wallpaper, textiles, furniture ...), craftsman, writer, book-maker, socialist crusader -- caused one physician attending his last days to say that he was dying of "simply being William Morris, and having done more work than most ten men."
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