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Case Study

Essay by   •  October 11, 2012  •  Essay  •  397 Words (2 Pages)  •  1,810 Views

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The tears fell like matches being struck(would you want to use strike somehow instead?) across my face. My vision was soon as murky as the water my paintbrushes were in, and all of the shapes on my paper swam together in a thick, salty, disturbed pool. "One day you're going to have to("you'll have to"?) get out of your little art bubble and wake up to the real world." When spoken, her words had not rang of bitterness as they did now. This was the third time I had attempted and approach to making art since that turbulent

The tears fell like matches being struck(would you want to use strike somehow instead?) across my face. My vision was soon as murky as the water my paintbrushes were in, and all of the shapes on my paper swam together in a thick, salty, disturbed pool. "One day you're going to have to("you'll have to"?) get out of your little art bubble and wake up to the real world." When spoken, her words had not rang of bitterness as they did now. This was the third time I had attempted and approach to making art since that turbulent

The tears fell like matches being struck(would you want to use strike somehow instead?) across my face. My vision was soon as murky as the water my paintbrushes were in, and all of the shapes on my paper swam together in a thick, salty, disturbed pool. "One day you're going to have to("you'll have to"?) get out of your little art bubble and wake up to the real world." When spoken, her words had not rang of bitterness as they did now. This was the third time I had attempted and approach to making art since that turbulent

The tears fell like matches being struck(would you want to use strike somehow instead?) across my face. My vision was soon as murky as the water my paintbrushes were in, and all of the shapes on my paper swam together in a thick, salty, disturbed pool. "One day you're going to have to("you'll have to"?) get out of your little art bubble and wake up to the real world." When spoken, her words had not rang of bitterness as they did now. This was the third time I had attempted and approach to making art since that turbulent

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