Is it interesting tearing apart the spontenaity of art with peices of a carefully crafted image that sells the senses? I'm detached.
Photographs of passion and desire, songs of flames and raging fire hang around the last round fighting myself and my shadows. It became harder to frame time in an interesting way.
Who am I when I have no mirror?
I need a muse.
words and pictures by roman blazic_all rights reserved
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