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Under perfect skies and well designed lines of stone, here is a disoriented city that can’t seem to keep its art alive. So what must an artist do in the suffocation, the forgery and the despair? Change spaces perhaps? Or perhaps pretend to merge with the city in its daily routine and plant in it one honest word, one undead color before curtains rise on another coast currently promising but destined to become 'the city’. There is no salvation for the artist but struggle is blood. #theprocess

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