Clean art - yay, Poor art - boo-hoo

It is an untitled landscape. It is little morals. All flesh in grass. Colour. Glowing in the darkness. Canvas smudged paints. Thinking about the baggage Gillian dealt in her last days. Still. One. Inlighted by his darkness. Gandhis resilience captured passive aggressiveness. Still triptych. I mean take a sip then.

There central. The spirit lion studied.  Digraced, five times or six times. Rustic like Hi ke leni ka!, vari xiwoldli Xita Ku and Ha tshama La! To be exposed to such and how arts brought me up, urbanizatrion and giving thanks to all breadwinners. My life remains untitled, unspoken of much like Legokobu, with iron busts and maquettes tsa Lengau. I can gladly say there was a way out. 315000 reasons to seek a way out. To be drawn back and hypnotized by the hips belonging to a girl walking, nude with a lot left to the imagination.