The Wandering Artist

And so that evening a wandering artist came to visit us. He wanted but leave to stay on one of our lawns, to set up a small tent and his banner, and to be able to take commissions from others of our and nearby homesteads. He showed me some of his work. I would say it was basic, but had promise. So I agreed. I would encourage creativity where I could.

He offered to do portraits of my household, though I told him rarely did Estarfin sit still long enough to make a portrait. I also told him he may go to breakfast and late meal in the kitchen of our main hall. One cannot have poor artists starve.