My heart, the pencil and imagination flows in tandem in a rare occasion. Take a tour!
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Though one might think like Shakespeare , "What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any ...
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In the cold misty morning the barren branch amongst the blossoming trees looked so dark, so grey, so rough , so hard, so unwelcoming and li...
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No one said that being a mom is like a windmill Most of the schools ensure that vacations to be a torture for the parents. Aft...
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