I’m alive at 24.
I’m not any wiser, but I’ve managed to grow in ways I didn’t expect. I now comprehend my personal mission, when it comes to art, a bit more. I understand that as an artist I’m still growing, and that the ideas I have now are different than those of a year ago and I hope that those of a year from now evolve in an equally natural manner.
The allure of superheroes started waning after 7-8 years of a kung-fu death grip on my soul. I began to explore personal ideas for growth and insight. I’ve lost interest in the reblogs of batman drawings; that have no other purpose than being glorified advertisement for mega-corporation Time Warner’s subdivision Warner Brothers and their subdivision of DC comics. I’ll still draw them, just not as often. I have things with meaning to attend to.
In life and love I’m just as ignorant as I’ve always been. Interactions with other humans makes unwanted stress, and I’ve yet to develop some kind of formula that’ll ease the process through logic or reason. I’m getting closer though, I can manage a conversation with out coming off as a manic depressive. Hell, sometimes I’m downright charming.
There are beautiful things just beyond the horizon, but I’m just too hung over to tell you about it all. I hope I get another year to do that.