"I have character. I got it from a nun. I keep it in a freezer in Arizona."

I had my last drawring class on Tuesday. I learned a lot about technique, obviously, but I also learned a very interesting lesson about myself.

Almost every time I began a drawing, I HATED it. I always had the idea the a real artist could just lay down a couple of lines on the paper and it would look like something. And I could never do that. My drawings would always start out as these blotchy, ill-proportioned scrawlings (especially when I tried to use compressed charcoal, which I remain convinced was FORGED BY LUCIFER HIMSELF). But then I learned the value of actually working with something. Even when a piece didn't get off to a great start, it usually ended up pretty OK after I put a little more work into it.

This is one of those Important Life Lessons, isn't it. I hate those. Freakin' HATE'em.