Ooh, whiskey and bad art...
So, I've had my phone turned off for most of this week and have been hiding in bed. Why? Because I'm an idiot. Or depressed. Or whatever. Take your pick. Also my meds have made half my face fall off. It's special. I look like I've bean belted across the face. Wheee.
Whilst trying to ride out the blah, I have been drawing and drinking whiskey. A young Preacher Morrow, Captain of the Confederacy, not quite as indestructible as he thought and about to be taken to Point Lookout (with HB, luckily, else he'd never have got out alive).
Yeah, I know, it's pretty shit. I can see lots of issues to be fixed; and if I continue to be a useless wench I'll fix them. However as soon as I'm even half compus mentis I'll stop arsing about and go on site or do accounting or jacket painting or something actually useful.
Feh.
It is sort of sadly that oil painting, screen printing or digital painting are all 'a waste of time'. Blah.
Whilst trying to ride out the blah, I have been drawing and drinking whiskey. A young Preacher Morrow, Captain of the Confederacy, not quite as indestructible as he thought and about to be taken to Point Lookout (with HB, luckily, else he'd never have got out alive).
Yeah, I know, it's pretty shit. I can see lots of issues to be fixed; and if I continue to be a useless wench I'll fix them. However as soon as I'm even half compus mentis I'll stop arsing about and go on site or do accounting or jacket painting or something actually useful.
Feh.
It is sort of sadly that oil painting, screen printing or digital painting are all 'a waste of time'. Blah.