tavie.com

So, as usual my anxiety was the product of needless overimagining. I only managed to come up with two drawings, try though I might, and they were both along the lines of the type of thing I usually doodle in the margins anyway-- a drawing of Inca Stinka, simplified to his essences of black-and-whiteness, and a self-portrait in left-facing profile that emphasizes the largeness of my double chins. He gave both a cursory glance, a perfunctory, "Perfect, perfect" and moved on. (As to my anxiety about the level of drawing ability that I would display in comparison to the rest of the class, again, needless worrying as I surveyed a majority of pleasantly childish flowers in vases and graffiti-style cartoon figures. My sisters and brothers in Lack of Imagination.)

So that's good. The hard part will be cutting Inca's and my likenesses into the wood with a minimum of gore and self-mutilation.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:11 PM | shower me with attention