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Speak Up


Micron Pen, Ink Wash on Stonehenge Paper


Sometimes it’s hard to be heard, to be seen, to be acknowledged in any way. Projection is but a hope, to be heard is to release everything. To scream until the jaw leaves the socket, the skin tears from the face, and the vocal chords rattle against one another with blistering ferocity. Even then it may still come out as silence.

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