The first day back on the job of drawing again feels like this:
I don’t remember what I was working on. I don’t remember what colors I liked to use for what. What was I working on, again? Something to do with tiny art? Or maybe…something new and different? And where did I put that pile of illustrations waiting for color?
So, there’s that.
I want to be always positive, and just a beam of freakin’ sunshine, but that’s not always possible, and I’ve been using that as an excuse to censor myself for far too long. So apologies for this next whiny little paragraph:
There’s also the, oh, let’s just say it, agony of being rusty and out of practice of drawing. It’s the worst. Coupled with a creative block, a few nasty reviews and my own negative internal monologue. It makes drawing kind of suck, and days like this make you want to quit forever and never do anything creative ever, ever again. Is going back to bed and crying and hiding under the covers an option? Can we just do that instead?
Ha ha ha.
TOMORROW WILL BE BETTER!
I’m off to get another cup of coffee. See you tomorrow? Same place, less whining. Semi-promise!