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Vienna 1914
I spent the next week cleaning my studio as best I could.
It wasn’t much of a sacrifice on my part. I’d been paid in full for my latest commission—not something I’d ever been able to say before then—but I’d expected the money I earned to last me at least two weeks, if not longer. I knew if I had to live on my commissioned assets after that, I’d be forced to go out into the streets and sell my “portraits in time” before I ran out of money. That’s how I obtained most of my commissions, though. I’d take a handful of small paintings with me, and as people stopped in the streets to sort through the paintings while I painted, I’d ask if they were interested in buying a painting, or sitting for a portrait. It was a slow and tedious affair for many different reasons, the first one being that I was never what you’d consider a personable man. It’s never been easy for me to speak to stranger…
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