When you ask me about my unfinished art lessons, how do I tell you I never could find a muse who'd be worthy of the charcoal I would use, that would leave their mark on my fingertips? //caption// Charcoal -Sanjana Kumar Have you ever been to the deepest, the darkest end of a cave? Felt the cave walls, moss laden? Sniffed the bat shit? Heard the water trickling down the walls? The thin, too thin trickling channel that arises of a source deep inside the earth's core? Have you read accounts of lost kids, every dimension exaggerated to justify a fear of the dark?
