'Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers ...' I have loved this line from a Tennyson poem ever since I first encountered it, scribbled in pencil at the edge of an archived (never exhibited) sketch by my all-time favourite artist Margaret Macdonald Mackintosh. The poem itself is a quirky sort of epic: a young man stands at the sea's edge and laments his broken heart, complaining (over many, many stanzas!) about a woman who has chosen a richer husband-to-be. At this point in proceedings, however, I fe...

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