art brut

Deidara presses the clay firmly, eyes closed as his fingertips sink into the mold. Red hair and brown eyes flash vividly behind his lids - but he presses too hard and the other eye is totally ruined. He tries to salvage his progress but nothing comes out quite right - no, that’s not him - and after his umpteenth attempt to replicate Sasori’s face a thought crosses his mind -

Is he really remembering Sasori as he is, or has Deidara’s memory already failed him?