This video is all about getting back into the swing of things after having a knock back. I realise how important exercising has become for my wellbeing, and I stay focused on my painting projects to get in extra cash for the boat project!
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When I first started out with the “online” world, it was crazy reading some of the abusive comments we would receive.
I would have people tell me that they hoped I drowned. That I was fat. That I was a waste of space. That I needed to get my teeth fixed. That I was a slag. For two and a half years, I still get trolls, emailing me, commenting on my videos, or on my Instagram.
There have been hundreds.
Trolling is so distorted. The idea of contacting someone you don’t know- to tell them you don’t like them and what you don’t like about them, their life or their choices- is bazaar to me. To actively take time and energy out of your day to attempt to drag someone else down- it’s screwed up.
I think now is a good time to say that I fell into depression when I came back from sailing in May. I couldn’t do anything. All I wanted to do was stay in my apartment, sit in my chair, drink tea and read books for hours and hours. I didn’t want to wash. And sometimes I didn’t for days at a time. I didn’t want to clean. My house became piled up with clothes, dirty dishes and moulding food.
I didn’t care. I just couldn’t.
“The hate continued to roll in. No matter what I did, the trolls remained.”
And when night fell, I would pull out a bottle of wine and drink it to myself. And wish I was somewhere else. I would spend my nights writing and drinking, crying and hugging my dog.
I was a nobody. A nothing.
I must have called helplines a dozen of times. But I didn’t know what to say.
“Hello there, I’m sad.”
I felt bad for calling them. I was wasting their time. There were others who needed this service more than me.
What is wrong with me?
What is wrong with me?
What is wrong with me?
I felt flawed. Weak. I had a good life and yet everything felt as though it was falling apart. I didn’t know where I was supposed to be or what I was supposed to do. I just wanted to stay inside my house forever. I had lost my fire.
I wasn’t ready to go back to Papageno. Everything felt too hard and yet there was an expectation of me.
I’m not ready to go back. I’m not ready to go back.
The hate mail continued to roll in. The abusive comments. The insults.
Hate, hate, hate.
Fat.
What a failure.
Absolute train wreck.
No wonder he left you.
Pathetic.
I can’t watch this car crash.
She doesn’t know what she’s doing.
I woke up one morning and decided. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to be happy.”
So I put Papageno up for sale. The weight and responsibility fell away immediately. I had done as much as I could. I had done what I had set out to do. I had always said I couldn’t walk away until her masts and rig was reinstated.
And the night I sold her, I bought a bottle of wine and sobbed through the night alone.
I was a failure. I had given up. I was a nobody.
I felt as though Papageno was the only thing that made me special. It was the only thing that was keeping my business going.
Who was I without her?
The hate continued to roll in. No matter what I did, the trolls remained.
I didn’t want to tell my friends. I didn’t want to tell them that I was lost. There was nothing wrong with my life on paper. How much of a fuck up was I to be feeling this way when so many people had it worse?
I bought a canal boat. I had something to be excited about. I went on my first date since my ex. But the joy began to fall away. I had a huge dread within my chest every day. Twisting and clawing at me. It was as though something terrible was going to happen and I couldn’t explain what it was. I never heard back from my date. And my work began to suffer. I didn’t want to paint. I didn’t want to create. I didn’t want to do anything.
She doesn’t know what she’s doing.
Pathetic.
She’s useless without the French guy.
I bet he’s glad he’s shot of her now.
I saw this coming.
Despite the comments, I had fiercely told myself that no matter what I did I couldn’t make everyone happy so I decided to continue doing what I wanted for myself. That I would try and stay strong.
Stay strong, Liz. Keep going, Liz!
But it was still there. Over 2 years of online abuse, mixed in with what had happened.
Were they right? Was it my fault?
Anger would flare up at myself for even thinking these things because I knew they were wrong. I had worked so hard. I had accomplished so much.
But there was a blackness that had already settled within. An exhaustion. It was on a drive down to the boatyard when I realised what this feeling was.
Oh, I thought. This is depression. This is it.
I felt relieved almost.
There was a name to it.
And I knew I didn’t have to find a reason. It just was.
“If the ship is going down, let there just be me. Don’t let us both drown in it.“
So much had happened in such a short space of time and I had constantly kept myself busy with preparing trips to go back to Papageno. Then when she was gone, and my world was still- it all hit me.
The hurricane season. The engine dying at sea. My relationship breaking down. Trying to get home. Feeling like a nobody. A has been. Feeling like I was a failure. Unloveable. Unworthy. Ugly. Coarse. Ungraceful.
Failure.
Failure.
Failure.
I began to cancel plans with everyone. I didn’t want to go to parties because I felt like I couldn’t be the usual happy and energetic Liz. I thought they would have more fun without me. I didn’t want to bring anyone down.
Mental Health Awareness day sprung up on us. And I felt angry. People putting up photographs of themselves wearing yellow to prove they were showing awareness.
“If you need me, I’m always here. Here’s a helpline to help.”
“Wearing yellow today to bring mental health awareness.”
“You know where I am if you want to talk!”
Do you really want me to know you’re there, or are you just putting up that post to make it appear that you care?
I was resentful believing that 80% of people that put up the “you can talk to me” posts would be appalled if I decided to ask them for help.
Didn’t they realise that it’s so hard to go to someone to tell them you need help? Don’t you realise that it takes so much energy just to get in the shower sometimes- yet alone call up your friend and exposing your vulnerabilities and you need help in one fell swoop?
Hi mate, just thought I’d call and let you know. I’m so desperately sad that I haven’t showered for a week. My apartment is such a mess and it’s making me feel miserable. But I don’t have the energy to clean it. I’m lonely. I’m so lonely. And sad. I don’t know what will make things better. You’ll say go to the doctor, but how can I? I don’t want to pick up the phone. I don’t want to leave my house. I don’t want to tell a stranger who will tell me to take pills, or who will give me a leaflet for counselling with a 6 week waiting list, for me to then leave my house again to tell a stranger that I’m sad once a week. I don’t want to seem broken to you. I don’t want to seem tainted or faulty. I wanted more for myself. I wanted more than this feeling. And I want more for you because you’re my friend. I don’t want to put you through this. If the ship is going down, let there just be me. Don’t let us both drown in it.
But please don’t leave me.
Who really wants that?
Whilst I was sitting in my chair, greasy-haired, stinking, miserable and sad, my friend reached out to me.
She contacted me.
“Just a mental health check in, love. How are you?”
No prompts.
And that was it. It was easy.
“Not good.”
And then it all fell out. Like a huge stream of pain from my chest, easing until I had no breath left. And then the words wouldn’t stop. I spoke to her mother. And then I spoke to my sister. And told her.
“Oh, that’s ok,” she said matter of factly.
“What?”
“That’s ok,” she repeated. “It’s normal, Elizabeth. I’ll help you. Depression isn’t a taboo thing anymore. I’ll help you. Don’t worry.”
Depression. It was out.
I wasn’t a freak. I wasn’t broken. I wasn’t flawed.
But I needed someone to help pull me out of my abyss to make me realise that.
What I’m saying is- help us. Check in with us. Don’t give up on us. Don’t just put up a post on social media saying you’re there. Contact your nearest and dearest and check in. A lot of us are terrified of asking for help. To ask for your help to carry the cloud. And if you listen, please don’t abandon us. Don’t wait for us to ask you for help or company. Because it’s so hard to ask someone that. Because we love you. We don’t want to burden you.
I was incredibly lucky. I began to talk. I knew the cloud wouldn’t be with me forever. That was the one thing that kept me going.
“It won’t be like this forever. I won’t feel like this forever. It will pass. It will pass.”
“Of course it will,” my sister would reassure me. She was letting me know it was ok to be sad. In this moment. And for maybe the next couple of months. And that it would get better.
My friend Laurianne kept calling and checking up on me. Telling me that if I didn’t pick up it was ok. That if I didn’t call her back that it was ok. But she would continue to call and message until I had enough energy to pick up. To talk. And there was never ever any guilt. And that made things better. And I eventually did pick up. And talked. And laughed. And cried. And then another week of me ignoring calls would go until I would pick up again. She never made me feel guilty. And that encouraged me to talk more. Until, the only reason I couldn’t pick up was because I was on the toilet- and even then sometimes I still did.
It was mid November until I finally started to come out of it. When the cloud lifted.
“I’ve found a strength and durability that I thought I had lost.”
I had the strength to go through my social media and block the trolls that frequented my pages and website. I wrote a list of things I wanted to achieve. Decided to pursue the illustrator dream. I read the emails of encouragement and love from my patrons. And I decided- that I would never let the opinions of others affect me in such a way again.
In December, I asked myself who and what I wanted to be.
Happy and healthy, came to mind.
So I began running, motivated by a mental health and fitness advocate called Elspeth (@elspethfit on Instagram if you want to check her out). It was a post about her starting her own fitness journey through running. How she struggled. I saw how she was in the present day. I wanted to be there. I wanted to find a way of coping. Find a way to get clarity. To find my pride again. I had followed her for a while but then decided that I wasn’t going to change anything about myself unless I STARTED. That’s all I needed. To START.
I wrapped a running dog lead I had bought from Amazon around my waist, clipped in Leela and shoved on my hat. I hadn’t run since before Delos. And the only time I had done a fast jog was when the bar shouted, “Last orders!”
I ran. And I laughed. Leela was ecstatic- and to be honest, she pulled me most of the way, making me shriek and cackle as we pounded along the pavement with people staring at us.
I ran again the next day. Running for 15 minutes in the morning with Leela dragging me along, and I would stop and start whenever I wanted (whenever Leela allowed me). It made me feel like I had achieved something. And the ache in my body was so good. Satisfying. And it made me happy to see Leela happy, curled up in a little ball by my chair.
In January I found that my day didn’t feel right unless I went for a run in the morning. I needed it. Craved it. It began to feel easier to be happy. I was more productive. Excited.
“I am worthy.”
In January I ran 25 times and covered 51km. My body began to change. I started to lose weight. I felt fitter. And I was proud of my new found health. I changed what I ate. I booked a flight to see my friend (she was the one who reached out) in Spain. I gave myself something to look forward to.
This month I’ve continued to run, covering 35km so far, and I will honestly say, that it is something I want to do for as long as I’m able. I rely on it so much. I’ve been going to the gym 4 times a week, building up my endurance and I’ve recently signed up to Cancer Research’s 5k Race for Life (you can sponsor me here if you like!) https://fundraise.cancerresearchuk.org/page/elizabeths-race-for-life-291199?fbclid=IwAR1v0PjEhF5eiNM5_dvwG-mGAsx9_yoaecj8e5U6IVTRZOJRELcGJ-rH2T4
I try to run 2km a day. I have a 10k daily step goal, joined a weekly step Fitbit challenge with some friends, of which I get overly competitive about but never win- (I will defeat you one day, Marcel!)
I’ve found a strength and durability that I thought I had lost. It may sound dramatic- but I feel as though running has really helped save me.
I still get trolls. And I think I always will.
They’re currently complaining that I’ve been making videos about getting healthy, running and that I’m still “fat”.
For illustrative purposes- please imagine me eye-rolling now.
If you’re wondering about how I am now- I want to let you know that I am the happiest and at most at peace that I have been in a long time. I educated and empowered myself- and most importantly- I gave myself the love I needed. I told myself that it was ok to not get things right. I told myself that it was ok to be sad. That I could just feel it. That I could cry. I invested in self-care, and told myself that I didn’t have to feel guilty if I simply wanted to sit in my chair and read an entire book in one day. To stop feeling guilty. That I would feel better eventually. I have spent the past 3 months pouring the time, effort and energy into healing.
I’ve still got areas to work on, but I feel relief.
So much relief.
I’m sharing my experiences because I think it’s about time. I was scared to share how I felt when I was going through it because I was afraid of how it was going to affect my business. How my friends and family would feel. How I would be perceived.
And I just don’t want to care about that any more. I don’t want to care about how others see me. I just want to be good to myself and continue caring for myself.
I will NEVER let comments like that affect me anymore. After reading and seeing on the news how the media and trolls have contributed to the suicide of Caroline Flack, a British television host in England, I decided.
That is it.
I will have no toleration for trolls.
I am worthy.
I am worthy.
I am worthy.
We are not broken. We are not flawed.
We are human.
I want to share my story to show you two points: how just one person reaching out to another can make so much of a difference. Secondly- be nice. Don’t be abusive to others. Don’t be a troll.
Don’t be a dick.
Love from Lizbef and Leela. x x x
P.S. A huge thank you to my sister, Laurianne and all of my faithful Patrons. You are the reason I continue to film and share my story.
Thank you.
With time running out until move in day, the weather gets worse, work gets busier and the leaks heavier! Damage control is needed until more funds are saved up to have the windows removed and seals replaced! So with tarp and trusty silicone, Lizbef sets to work!
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We start custom fitting the sleeping area inside with PLENTY of storage as well as picking the paint to paint the interior! The second job didn’t go so well… Good job I’m better at illustrating than choosing colours for the boat!
Tip for a Cuppa Tea!
This video was created by the power of tea! If you have enjoyed this video, please feel free to slide one my way!
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Tip for a cuppa tea!
If you have enjoyed my comics and would like to tip me a cup of tea, feel free! Tea is basically my rocket fuel, and I was more than likely drinking a good cuppa whilst drawing.
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Tip for a Cuppa Tea!
Tea is my fuel for the day. If you've enjoyed reading my comics/blogs I was was probably drinking a lovely cup of it at the time!
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The days always start with a new hope now. It’s been a long time since I felt this content and I’m happy to carry on whichever way the path is taking me. I’m learning a lot about myself.
I’ve got several plans going forwards.
There’s always the risk when I leave Papageno to go home that I’ll lose everything that I’ve worked hard for- returning home can always be damaging to social media, YouTube viewings and all of that. You financially take a hit, and I always feel the pressure to go back as soon as possible.
But it’s been so evident that being at home has been the best thing for me whilst I educate myself about boats and save money to go back in later on in the year. I want to do this the right way. So I’ll hold back the urge and make sure I do this the right way.
I’ve been looking at the boat yard in Carriacou. The labour and fees are cheap enough on the island to get the entire work done there. I’m also planning on saving as hard as I can to rent a small apartment on the island for a couple of months so there is a balance between work on the boat and the graft I must do with my day to day job, editing and painting. I want to make the next trip a pleasure, not a chore that I come to dread.
I’m hoping that to be able to separate my living space from my work space whilst we do the huge overhauls, it’ll be a healthier and more productive work environment. I’ve lived on Papageno whilst she was out of the water and on the hard before. And let me tell you- it is not fun. You BAKE inside. I would rather have the environment to be as balanced and fun as possible for whoever I bring back over with me. Fun in the apartment, explorations via car and the completion of Papageno until we can get her into the water with everything she needs.
I want to reach out here and now and say thank you all so much for following me this far. The dedication and kindness I feel from you all feel uplifts my spirit and reminds me why I’m doing this. You’re all so incredible and I wish I could hug each and every single one of you. So, thank you.
I left Delos nearly two years ago. I wonder what it would be like to go back and do it all over again with what I know now. When I look back, I can’t believe how clueless I was about it all. I was so dazzled by Delos herself that I didn’t comprehend what I was experiencing. It is something that has dramatically changed my life. I often think about what I would have done without taking that leap, and I decided that I would have taken another leap somewhere else in some way. But I probably, (most definitely wouldn’t) be where I am today.
It’s been great to look back at things as you get older, learn more and progress. I’m glad that I am still in contact with everybody. Whenever I’ve had a few drinks, I always leave Blue the odd voice note telling her how much I love her and do the odd impression of Winston Churchill. I’m in contact with Brian several times a week as we’re working on an exciting project together. I’ll tell you more about it as the time comes, don’t worry! I’m looking forward to seeing them when the baby is born!
Things are looking up as I progress my story in England. I’ve been trying to be brave and attempting new things- I’ve been going to yoga and Pilates classes and even attended a pottery class last week! The goal of this entire mission was to build EarleWrites up so it could support Papageno’s restoration at all times. With the paintings, the videos, the podcasts and especially the books. It’s been wonderful to throw myself back into writing and sharing the books that I’ve previously had published. (You can check them out here https://www.amazon.com/E-EARLE/e/B008TOXIO4/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0)
There are still many things I want to experience in England before I go back in October. Get fit. Visit all the places on my list. Grow the website and the podcast. Release the third Maddox Black book. Complete the children’s book I’ve been telling myself I’m going to finish every week.
There’s so much and I need to be more productive with my time. I’ve been trying to keep myself driven and motivated by listening to podcasts, being active and thinking good thoughts. But I’m a daydreamer, and there’s always a new idea I want to try!
Leela has a beautiful life. And I’m doing my best to keep it that way. I’ve been taking her to the vets over the past couple of weeks and we discovered a lump. Long story short, we’re taking her to the vet’s on Monday for an operation to remove it.
“It’s very unusual for a dog so young to have a significant lump like that,” the vet said to me.
I trusted him instantly. There was something in his face that just said I love what I do. I knew whatever he advised would be the best thing for her.
“She’s my companion all day,” I said looking down at her as she lay out on the floor, annoyed that we weren’t in the park instead. I explained our story to him. About how I had gotten her. Our travels together and what we had been through in getting her home safely to England. “I talk to her all the time. She makes me happy. I just want to do what is best for her.” They were such easy and cliché sentences. But he heard what I really wanted to say.
She’s my best friend. Please help her. Save her.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her, his grey hair matching his grey shirt. “We will do everything for Leela,” he told me. “We’ll go in, take it out and see what we’re working with. And if it comes to it, we’ll go forwards and talk about chemo.”
The word, “chemo” frightened me. When I had mentioned the lump before, I was of the opinion that I didn’t have to worry about it. That it was common. That most dogs had lumps.
“Most older dogs do have fatty lumps,” he explained to me. “But this lump is hard. And she is very young. I wouldn’t be happy until we removed it all.”
I nodded, nervous and happy to get it over with. I explained then how she would be scared when I would return on Monday and leave her with the team to be prepared.
Oh God, she’s going to think I’m abandoning her, I thought. I couldn’t bear it.
“Can you just let the girls know?” I asked tentatively, aware of sounding suddenly incredibly young. “Ask them to be really nice to her? She’s going to be very sad.” I smiled apologetically, hearing myself suddenly. “I need to grow a backbone…”
“I understand,” he said kindly, and I knew he did. He bent down and started to scratch behind her ears. “I couldn’t live without animals.”
I stood for a few seconds watching him, thinking about what an incredible sentence it was. It rang with so much truth. Animals are a gift to this world. We don’t deserve them. And we especially don’t deserve dogs.
Not usually one who is unable to come up with a reply, I shook his hand and thanked him as we left. Leela’s tail started to wag as soon as I opened the door, promising I would buy her a bone as a reward.
Hours fast forward as I am writing this. Leela is lying at my feet, stretched out, her new bone in front of her and unaware of what is to come on Monday.
She and I rely on each other so much. We are company for the other. I only feel completely at ease when she is around. And I know what I sound like. I’m completely aware. But we’ve both been through so much. I know in my heart of hearts that she would never abandon me. She’s loyal. She will never leave me. She’s the happiest when I wake and when I return home EVERY time. What other creature would do that?
And for that, I will give her my unfailing dedication and endeavour to give her the best life I can.
Dog is man’s best friend, right?
Preparations go underway to handmake a majority of Christmas gifts, I reveal one of my latest watercolour timelapses and celebrate the holiday with the family! Not long now till Papageno!
If you would like a watercolour commision- contact me at svpapageno@gmail.com
Join Us! https://www.patreon.com/earlewrites
Shop https://www.earlewrites.com/shop
Papageno Bracelet!
Join the Papageno Clan with one of our handmade bracelets! Inspired Papageno’s story in Mozart’s famous Opera, as well as the wanderlust spirit it is to fly away and be free, we wanted to create something simple, bright and connected to our story. Each bracelet sold goes towards fixing our wounded Papageno ready to be out on the water! Free shipping with all orders!
$18.00
Well tomorrow is the big day.
I become a proper adult and start living in my own home. I’m renting, but you know what I mean. The apartment is set inside this big building above! It used to be a house but got separated into apartments. Mine is at the very top! I’m going to get fit walking up 4 flights of stairs I think!
I’ve been working hard on my paintings and it’s been a relief to be in an environment where I can find a bit of peace. Tomorrow comes with a lot of changes and I’ve never been very good with that.
I just want to get settled.
As you know I’ve been living with my mate Steve and I’m scared to leave. There’s a comfort in these four walls. My friends come and go all of the time. I have my bedroom here, the comfiest bed, I have my space on the sofa, my blanket and the side switch that makes the seat pop out.
But there’s always a time to step out of your comfort zone.
And that’s tomorrow.
I’ve realised a few things whilst I’ve been here. I need to make even more changes. I’m going to be kind to myself and accept the fact that I’ve been adjusting to life back in England.
I know it’s been a while, but sometimes I still think of Edouard. Of course I do. It’s natural. Sometimes I wish I could go back and just relive that first day in Paris together over and over. But that’s a dream and I need to wake up from it. I need to preoccupy my mind. I’ve been looking for distractions a lot recently, and I’ve been waking up with a sore head on more than one occasion. But it’s time to start pouring my energy into constructive ways.
Painting.
Running.
Going to the gym.
Meeting family.
In October I wrote nearly every day. It was a great comfort- a cheap form of therapy as I poured my heart out to the world. Now it’s pretty much December, I’m ready to start writing again properly. I’ve been dying the past year to throw myself back into my Maddox Black series. It’s been a year since I wrote anything on it, and the last time I wrote a piece of fiction was in June this year about a girl who went back in time to 1922 (time travel is a fantasy of mine.) It’s time to get a schedule. Become organised. Motivated.
I really want to develop something where Papageno can give back. I think we’re ready to start building something. But I don’t know in which direction. So, if you have any organisations that are close to your heart, please let me know. I want to be a part of animal conservation efforts, humanitarian efforts and ocean preservation efforts. All of these ideas, intentions and I’m planning on 2019 to be a big year for us.
All I know is that I want Papageno to be independent and to do all she can to make a difference.
One of the reasons why Edouard was upset on the boat was because he felt that we weren’t involved in helping the community. He was a part of such amazing solidarity projects back in France that it went against his principles to simply do nothing.
“We have to get established first,” I would tell him. “We’re trying to build a base so we can make a bigger difference.”
But now he is making his own difference.
And it’s time I did too.
I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Coming up with ideas and talking with likeminded people. About possibly taking groups of people out to places to build up schools or assist with medical supplies. Or it could be arranging teams of people to do beach clear ups or fundraising for children afflicted by life altering illnesses. And then there’s homelessness.
So many different things I feel for and it’s time now to create the start of something. I knew Papageno would always do something to help. That was my promise.
I was hoping to develop a range of products to specifically raise funds for these intentions or arrange fundraisers. But I know things take time, planning and good people.
So I’ll be setting up my shop in my new flat with my mum and sister and we’re going to be sitting down and figuring out how we can make EarleWrites a success so we can make an actual difference in the world. The Papageno Project has to be about something. It has to MEAN something.
I went to bed last night, wondering what I wanted from life.
What I wanted to achieve.
And that was all I could think about as my head touched the pillow. About how I could try and make a difference.
About how excited I was to wake up and continue making new items by hand, painting, working with ceramics, answering emails about your family portrait commissions.
Sometimes I get a longing for the place I’m supposed to be. I have no idea where that is yet. All I know is that I have to carry on doing my best, carry on doing what is best for me and Leela and keep Papageno alive.
I still have a while to go in some self healing, but I hope my new home will become a haven for me. A place to be safe, secure and to encourage more self love for myself.
I can’t wait to show you the first episode of The British Diaries, so I thank you for being patient with me as I create it and have another move in my life.
As a BIG thank you, I would love to give you all a 25% off all Limited Edition Prints in the shop! Just type in 25OFFXMAS and head over to get some of that Christmas shopping done!
As always thank you.
Leela and I send you our love and cuddles!
See you in the Earle Apartment!
X
“Ride the Storm!” Limited Edition Print
Limited edition high quality art print of watercolour painting done by salty sailor of SV Delos Elizabeth! We are faced with storms every day. I wanted to create something that immortalised the fighting spirit we all have inside, thinking of the sailors of old as they rode the storm years ago. If they can do it, so can we! Printed on high quality Marseille 300gsm aquarelle paper. Dimensions: 21cm x 29.7cm
$70.00
“Let’s talk about Kevin.” Limited Edition Print
Limited edition high quality art print of watercolour painting done by salty sailor of SV Delos Elizabeth! Well you guys voted on his name! Here’s Kevin, the octopus- one of my favourite ink drawings with watercolours. I love watching David Attenborough’s Blue Planet and whenever he speaks about these creatures, my eyes are glued to the screen! I’m not saying I’d like to swim with one- but wow! They are amazing creatures! Printed on high quality Marseille 300gsm aquarelle paper. Dimensions: 21cm x 29.7cm
$70.00