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Sam Tilley Art
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About
Art
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Writing
Sneakers
Sam Tilley Art
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About
Art
Photo
Video
Writing
Sneakers
Art Squidrific
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A global pandemic.

Life as I knew it was burned down and blown away in its entirety. I found myself in deep and fast-flowing waters at that, unsure of the stability or permanence of anything.

Then, appearing as a beacon of light in a dark and mysterious room I started drawing again. I found solace in the ability to control what I wanted, that an earthly disease couldn’t touch this spiritual part of my life. I sat down nightly and turned these unsettled thoughts into shapes, into bending and amorphous lines, into flowing designs, into fragmented and disjointed patterns. I dotted, outlined, and smeared, my pen strokes translating a screaming mind desperate for some kind of answer.

This is what I came up with, whatever it means.

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A global pandemic.

Life as I knew it was burned down and blown away in its entirety. I found myself in deep and fast-flowing waters at that, unsure of the stability or permanence of anything.

Then, appearing as a beacon of light in a dark and mysterious room I started drawing again. I found solace in the ability to control what I wanted, that an earthly disease couldn’t touch this spiritual part of my life. I sat down nightly and turned these unsettled thoughts into shapes, into bending and amorphous lines, into flowing designs, into fragmented and disjointed patterns. I dotted, outlined, and smeared, my pen strokes translating a screaming mind desperate for some kind of answer.

This is what I came up with, whatever it means.

A global pandemic.

Life as I knew it was burned down and blown away in its entirety. I found myself in deep and fast-flowing waters at that, unsure of the stability or permanence of anything.

Then, appearing as a beacon of light in a dark and mysterious room I started drawing again. I found solace in the ability to control what I wanted, that an earthly disease couldn’t touch this spiritual part of my life. I sat down nightly and turned these unsettled thoughts into shapes, into bending and amorphous lines, into flowing designs, into fragmented and disjointed patterns. I dotted, outlined, and smeared, my pen strokes translating a screaming mind desperate for some kind of answer.

This is what I came up with, whatever it means.

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©JayMontclaire