I no longer saw the world as objects, just an already realized pane of colors that I could facsimile. What I've seen sketch artists do was no longer magic, just mechanical. Everything was pin sharp and hyper real, but somehow fantastical at the same time.
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Nah. I'm just making this up. I still can't draw, and it's transcendent magic that anyone else can. There's something very surreal about spending a lifetime seeing, but somehow never really seeing as others do, what's before our very eyes.
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