
So I’m sitting here painting existentially fraught paint strokes, wondering what the point is of my dedication to an entire year of portraiture when it hits me. If I am blessed with a gift, and even if oblivion is inevitable and necessary, then I am determined to be a grenade, but not the kind of grenade that wounds (well, we are all the kind that wounds, but nothing can be done to change that). I want to be a grenade that explodes with awesome and touches as many people as possible. To have just one other consciousness feel a connection that is deeper than flesh in reaction to something I created is worth all these years and coming years of practice. John Green has taught me that more than any other person.
I so desperately want for people to see a living breathing soul in my work, my own little observations of the Universe, but apparently, the world is not a wish-granting factory and so I am not there yet.
On an unrelated note, WOW glasses are really difficult. I spent probably twice the amount of time I did on the entire rest of the drawing making the glasses look right so that by the end, the shirt wasn’t worth the effort.
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