drawing for sixteen years passed. portraiture for eight. self taught.

i try my best to maintain positivity, impartiality, and indifference. today is better than yesterday, along with any day before. i would not ever wish to be anyone but my own self. i have all of the characteristics of a human being, embraced and exerted under my control. in person, i can be perceived as one very reserved. my core is guarded by a labyrinth (with scissors at post around every corner). i have many aquaintences but very few actually know me. those who think they do... amuse me so. lately, i have had little interest in conversing with just anyone whos presence is available. compliments and criticism, ego building and crushing... are not necesary. i am, or at one point, already aware. sentimentalism can go fuck itself dead. of course, there are exceptions. few, but they are in solid existence. if i was not so concerned with receiving an art education funded by capitalists (which i suppose i am only partaking in, for the opportunity that was missed before) or with the risk of subjecting my peanut self to being helplessly pillaged by a mindless common villager; i would backpack to wherever my intuition leads.