Sophie Barnes
We took off the white overalls. Took drops of each to clear away the redness in our eyes.
Coming out of his room and being the one to shut the door behind me, I gave him several arts once over just to keep them fresh in my mind before finally shutting the door to his museum. I turned to him to find him staring at me already with curiosity in his eyes. “You like my art??” He inquired like a man already infested with doubt in his heart for that sort of possibility. He didn't look away, instead, he increased his focus on me as if trying to see past my soul into my intentions.
“If they were crap, I would still have thought it was art, because art is what you make it from a subjective point. From an objective point, the true meaning is mostly always lost, but it would always
