I drew a portrait of my house mate, Sam, using graphite, Sharpie, and charcoal. At the bottom it reads, "Death leaves cans of shaving cream half-used," from
Haruki Murakami's novel - Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. In part, the drawing is a response to artificial public personas (think, "Smile for the camera!").
Viewing art should be an emotional experience. Since this portrait freaks me out, I think it qualifies as art.
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