Troubled son Page 4

$700.00
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11x17 • ink wash + mix media paste on diolog dialogue

It starts with a rooftop.
A pen, a beat-up map, and a song stuck in her head like blood in the teeth.

This is Gwen’s overture.
A mixtape prayer. A swing into the night searching for what’s broken, what’s lost…
and maybe who she used to be.

“Just see my fall… I’m a troubled son.”

Original art available now.