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Just draw the damn hands. Stop ending them at stumps at the wrist. Stop hiding them behind someone’s back. Draw them. Yeah, you’re probably bad at them, guess what? Everyone is. And you’re not going to get better by not drawing them.
So draw the damn hands.
There is this Du Bois painting in my parents’ living room. One of the women has a parasol that matches her long, grey skirt. And for the first twelve years of my life I thought she was a trashcan…
There are two guys in a car in the driveway listening to Eiffel 65’s Blue (da ba dee) at top volume.
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