MY LAST STROKE

PROLOGUE: THE QUITE ROOM WHERE I WRITE THIS. ---------------------------------I'm writing this in the quiet.1 AM.The house is asleep.My sketchbook is open on my lap.My charcoal-stained fingers are hol...

Bhabani SankarNot "wanted to be." Not "aspiring to be." I WAS an artist.So, this is goodbye-not to art, but version of me that drew . The version that was alive. The version that felt real.