The challenge of the blank canvas
I break into a cold sweat. My eyes become misty and lips dry. What I see in front of me is what nightmares are made of. A new beginning. The blank canvas. An empty artboard. And an even more empty...
I break into a cold sweat. My eyes become misty and lips dry. What I see in front of me is what nightmares are made of. A new beginning. The blank canvas. An empty artboard. And an even more empty...