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Sunday, February 17, 2013
As I drew this, I thought my pens were leaking tiny little drops of water. Then I realized the roof was leaking. It smelled like grandma's attic and the radio played such sad music: In The Still of The Night, Save The Last Dance For Me, I Am Music. To make matters worse, the sun came out, finally, but I was trapped inside, midway into a drawing. But the elderly woman who owns the place was kind and curious about why I would want to draw her dusty old junk and came outside to wave as I drove off.