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I was in a most southern part of Virginia, eight hours from home, in a sleepy prison camp that bordered North Carolina. Exercising my pencil to pass the time. Doing reflective pieces that often swung the lens around on either myself or the culture around me. This drawing was no different.

I thin it started with the gun and then expanded to all the other elements that consumed street culture. I think a leak in the basement destroyed this piece. Glad I scanned it before it got decimated.

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