Paper

I’m obviously lacking the skills, but there was a lot of ambition behind this drawing.

It was a sunny afternoon somewhere in May. I spent more than a week locked in my room back in Linksfield.  There was no space to drop a pen on the floor. My bed was covered in paper and I couldn’t really open the door because of the pencils and charcoal lying everywhere.

Every single cell of my body wanted to end the struggle. I wanted to draw something good enough to get me to the next stage. Simple as that.

From the series of 7 drawings I’ve done that week, this is the closest one to my heart.

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