Sketch Book

I lay my pencil down on my sketch book ending the drawing of my sleeping cat, for he chose to wake up at the most inopportune time. I decided to take a moment to look through my old drawings. From years long gone, there were sketches of cartoons, doodles of random objects, flowers, and the occasional pet if they were kind enough to stay still. I went through the book as if it was my own personal timeline, every new picture penciled within its pages marked the progress of my skills as an artist. As I look through it, I internally cringe and laugh at my old drawings. I remember being so proud and feeling so accomplished when the last line was drawn and the picture was complete. What made me think they were each such a masterpiece at the time? My skills were obviously not up to par with the skills of a great artist, heck, they still aren’t. From the time a person discovers their creative being as an artist, progress never ends really, improvement is always attainable. Come to think of it, when did I discover my love for art? I cannot remember a time when i wasn’t with a pencil or paintbrush. Even in my family, I have always been known as the “artsy one”. Either making little miniatures out of model magic clay, or making a mess with tempera paint on paper, I have always found something creative to do. Yet, sometimes my creative mind reaches too far beyond what my being can handle. My brain is like one massive hyperbole. All I do is think and dream of things I wish to do, create, or become that I know are a far reach for my capabilities. This and perfectionism go hand in hand. Even with the most insignificant of projects or events in my life, I must see it to my own standard of perfection. If something is finished without my own perfect perception, I feel it is incomplete or just not good enough. Sadly, this doesn’t really come in handy while working in groups, people can sometimes find my need to be perfect a little agitating. Though, I wear my mind on my sleeve, therefore my opinions will be heard whether someone likes it or not. Even with my own pieces, I find them hard to finish because i can’t capture the exact image my mind has created. Hmm… some aspects of my newest sketch could be changed, If only the little fur-ball could have stayed in place… I’ll leave the sketch for now and move on to my new subject, a fresh bouquet of vibrant roses placed on the dining room table, at least they wont move. So this is where i must end my reflection, for an artist’s mind is within their hands while they create.

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