I’m flipping through my old sketchbook. It’s funny really, how I couldn’t see the imperfections; the drawing was terrible. Now I can’t seperate the good from the bad. Once I find an imperfection, I zero in on it.
I obsessed over art even then. I guess some things never change.
As artists, we often get stuck in our own minds. Constantly deleting, erasing, editing when the first draft isn’t finished. It’s a familiar feeling, needing to be perfect on the first try.
Maybe it’s killing us. It’s killing me too.
I haven’t learned to let go yet, but I’ll tell you when I get there.
Authors Note: I’m trying to be more active, so, my thought was to write down my daily musings as a writer-artist. I hope to be more active in the future.
