Thursday, January 23, 2014

You. Are. Lost.

That was this mornings comment given to me by my print teacher, tiny in frame, and thick spanish accent.  She was genuine as she stared into my soul after glancing over the last sketches of "The Bull". I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. She had a way of making me loose my train of thought very quickly.
"I know how you feel, you are lost." ... what can I say.  She closed my notebook and handed it back.

This woman thinks I am now a very lost homesick girl. Homesick came from my last critique.

 Maybe she's right.

Here a couple more sketches coming from the tired weak hands of a girl who feels out of place and alone.  (You all know I really just want to draw plants). But I don't want to bleed to death from her passionate corrections.