|Fast forward later that year, and you’ll find my aspirations on steroids. (Yes, that is a bloody heart in his hand) I can’t remember if I named him or not, so I’ll just call him “Asshole” for now.|
|Four years later, I had evidently not grown.|
|By 18, I had left superheroes and monsters behind for my cult leader Maynard James Keenan of the band Tool . . .|
|. . . and the talentless goddess Shirley Manson of the band ironically called Garbage.|
|This is my father. We bore a striking resemblance when we were 19.|
|At 22, I took my first and last art class. It was okay, I guess. I learned a couple cool techniques, like covering paper with charcoal and drawing with an eraser. Never thought of that before.|
|This last one was drawn with a stump of charcoal. I had never sketched anything without using a single line before. Never thought of that before either.|
I'm sure you noticed they're all in pencil or charcoal. I don't remember owning a single set of Crayons as a kid and as a result, I never learned to use color. I also wanted to learn the piano but that was even more expensive than Crayons. Goddamned limiting properties of money. Anyway, I've tried paints, and color pencils, and Crayons. Still working on those skills. I'm sure you also noticed that most of them are unfinished. I can't explain that one, but to this day, I still leave a lot of my artwork unfinished. It's a special occasion when I'm finished and completely satisfied with one.
I have stacks of other drawings and even some from when I was in elementary school but I can’t find them. Those are cool. It’s interesting to see how your mind interpreted your environment when you were still half-wild and without concern. Oh, Life, how you’ve changed us all.