 I remember making this, the motions, the paper, the feel of the pen. He started as an accident, a blob.
I remember making this, the motions, the paper, the feel of the pen. He started as an accident, a blob.  I can't recall when, or why. 
But every time I have ever looked at this picture, he looks familiar.
a jumble of whatever i feel like putting out in the world.
 
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