By the way ...
... this is the part of the semester where more time gets spent on studio than on thesis. Sad but true. And after all the people I've counciled otherwise in the last two years, too. Ah well. Here's a nice winter thought to tide you over:
Snowflakes
Not slowly wrought, nor treasured for their form,
In heaven, but by the blind self of the storm --
Spun off, each driven individual,
Perfected in the moment of its fall...
-- Howard Nemerov