Let's take a break from drawing hot men for a second. I had a completely different idea as to what I wanted to draw today, but that all changed about two days ago, when it happened again -- I felt another "attack" coming on. I almost have enough money saved up for eye surgery, but in the meantime I have to use what I affectionately call "eye lube" to prevent (most) possible attacks, which occur when the epithilium gets bunched or torn against the eyelid, causing temporary blindness, liquidy vision, or intense pain from corneal tears. I always feel like some schmuck trying to explain just what it feels like, and ... yeah, this is about it. It sometimes feels like someone is stabbing me right in the eyeball.
No, it's not a well-drawn picture, or well-painted, but at least it helps me get a bit of my frustration from this situation off my chest, rather than just sulking after an attack wishing I didn't have fucked up eyes. In a way it's (very very loosely) inspired by Frida Kahlo, who took a significant amount of her own pain and did did quite possibly the most autobiographical portraits one could ever paint. I'll never claim to be at that level -- only to be inspired by the "skewed self-portrait" that was her trademark.