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She sat quietly in a dark corner of her room. She liked corners. She liked to sit in the dark. Her room smelled like paint, as always, they
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Finding her dorm room wasn't very hard at all. Once you got to the fifth floor, which was the top floor, excluding the attic, there was a fork; you would either go left or right- left was room 500 to 550, and right was 550 to
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It was about an hour later that Anastasia, Clara, and her father Aloysha climbed into a limo and started their journey to Mikhail Crowne's
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“My art is my god,” said George. “My easel is my altar, my brushes and oils the body and blood of my soul. Turpentine is in my skin and clo
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Mikhail Crowne's Academy for the Gifted and Talented. 1
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The brush is wide and course, and with it he stabs over and over again at the canvas. The smell of oil permeates this room, even with the
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He sat in as he always did in the wheeled chair that looked out of the window to the modern world. 1 / His arms wrapped around his cold emp
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I do not want to be the blind girl’s ironically artistic sister for once.by anduntilthen 1900 words, 1 comment, on Dec 3 2:23 AM 2007. In Art, Disability, Family, Fiction, First person, Short story
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by The Roaming Scar 5400 words, 1 comment, on Aug 31 1:11 AM 2007. In Art, Life, Love, Spiritual, Young adult
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A purple-striped torso with painted bleeding crotch, a saintly-haloed giraffe with a shaved Barbie head...
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Ok, Hi! I was bored yesterday, writing to my penpal, and so I drew this comic, which ended up using ocs. So I thouhgt you might enjoy. Plea
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by Christa Steiner 300 words, 3 comments, on Jan 29 6:35 PM 2007. In Art, First person, Life, Starting idea, Unedited
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