»Some goodbyes are not ends but releases.« My new drawing is finally done. Let me know what you’re thinking looking at this. Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
I like the fact that this artist has used the proportions of the face in a very abstract way by moving the features. This shows together and apart because all the features are there but they are in a muddled order.