On a quiet Sunday morning, the boy sat on the floor with his back against the wall, his hat tilted low over his eyes, feeling cooler than he’d ever felt in his life. The guitar rested awkwardly in his hands, strings buzzing and slipping as he tried to make them behave. Even though the notes came out rough and uncertain, he didn’t mind—every shaky sound made him feel a little more like the blues players he admired, lost in the moment and proud just to be trying.
This pastel piece was create in 2009
On a quiet Sunday morning, the boy sat on the floor with his back against the wall, his hat tilted low over his eyes, feeling cooler than he’d ever felt in his life. The guitar rested awkwardly in his hands, strings buzzing and slipping as he tried to make them behave. Even though the notes came out rough and uncertain, he didn’t mind—every shaky sound made him feel a little more like the blues players he admired, lost in the moment and proud just to be trying.
This pastel piece was create in 2009
