I put the pencil to paper and drew a line that was too thick. I tried to rub it out. I could still see its shadow through a squint. It taunted me and discouraged me, spat insults at me and told me I'd never get anything in my life right.
Too many lines. No, that was a mistake.
Are the pectorals really that large? Is this a perfect 3/4 angle. Can I even see what the fuck is going on in this drawing right now??
I threw to the ground. I wanted to burn it. Burn the effort. Burn the passion and the desire to learn.
I told myself I was lazy and I forced myself to sleep. The next day I picked up a paintbrush.
I couldn't even get the fucking right shade of brown.
- I tried to be an artist
