Overgrown

I drew something.

I hope you enjoy it.

I don't hardly draw anymore, and whenever I do I can't remember why I stopped.

I once harbored childish dreams of doing so professionally, and I guess when I saw firsthand the amazing (and intimidating) amount of work that actually went IN to such a career, I dumped it.

I never really learned perspective.

I never really learned lighting.

Dynamism is a fickle mistress. Some nights I court her at her window, serenading her and crooning softly in the light of a gibbous moon. Other nights, we scream and curse at each other, and I tell her how she is turning into her mother before she runs crying from the room.

What the hell was I talking about?

Oh! Right.

I practice an art I like to call, humbly enough, HYPER DETAIL! This does not mean I am especially GOOD at details, simply that I enjoy the very act of drawing very tiny things. It's a wonderful catharsis to me. Some people tell me it looks good, but I feel deep down they are sparing my feelings.

When it comes to art, I am neither vain or proud. When I do it, it's because I enjoy the creation often more than the finished product, but if I think the product turns out all right, I'll share it with you, Internet Friends.

Bic ULTRA ROUND STIC GRIP pen on typing paper.