Pretty Little Bird

I was not feeling well today so while I was resting I drew the early bird getting the worm.

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Practice -Bottle

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Don’t Wake the Puppy

My first attempt at sketching a sleeping dog.

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Anxiety Kitten

Some friends were over on the weekend and they fit into a heated debate on a subject that gives me panic attacks just when I think about it on my own, let alone when others say things to bring my deepest darkest fears to the surface, as well as saying things that make me want to irrationally strike out.

It was very hard on me, so I got my sketch book and started to sketch. At first I didn’t know what I was doing. My brain was racing and I was not paying real attention to what my fingers were drawing, then suddenly there was a kitten in front of me, on the paper.

I give you my Anxiety Kitten

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Fall Trees

My first ever painting.

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I remember as a child, watching my Dad paint and thinking that had to be the most marvelous thing in the world, to have that kind of talent, to create something from a vision in your head for others to enjoy and love.
For a time it was my drive to do the same, but somewhere along the way I convinced myself that it was too hard. That I didn’t have the talent.
What I really wanted was to pick up a paint brush or a pencil and create something as easily as my Dad did, without having to practice, without having to work at it, or sacrifice to get that kind of skill.
Talent will only take you so far, the rest is blood, sweat and tears.
When I was younger I was consumed with creating art. I’d spend hours sketching, painting, trying to get the skill I wanted.
It frustrated me that I didn’t have the skill yet to create the visions I had, and so I stopped trying.
People tried to tell me that I was good, and I let me convince myself otherwise.
But I never stopped having that pang in my chest, whenever I saw something beautiful and thought to myself
“Man, I wish I could paint that!”
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