Happy 2012! Going pretty swimmingly thus far. My Angry Cat is neutered and will hopefully be less Angry. My new health plan is going pretty well with the exception of the Sesame Chicken I will be snarfing down in a few seconds.
Okay, so. Artistic Anxiety. Blegh. Is there anything more tedious, frustrating or annoying? You can’t complain about it openly (not that that really helps), you’ll only be met with someone muttering “First world problems,” under their breath. And I concur! It is only with the invention of time away from working that people like me have the leisure to sit around and ponder their existential and artsy issues. Poor me, I’m not as good as I want to be. This is of course a problem solved by practicing. And practicing can be frustrating because it’s a reminder that you’re not as good as you are in your mind. If you never practice, nay, if you never do that thing at all, then you don’t have to worry about how not-good you are. Except that in the back of your brain, you know. And you will always know how you gave up. How you couldn’t withstand the process, you couldn’t tough out the long hours of repetitious drawing of hands or feet or whatever it is that you hated doing but knew you had to do to get better. So you must keep doing it. I will always have a difficult relationship with drawing hands and feet, but if I keep practicing it may turn into a fond remembrance of difficulty surmounted. One can hope.
That is all, back to Chinese food, boring my boyfriend to tears and drawing basic anatomy shit. Curses.