pobretom

i’ve been drawing on and off these days, well at least i’ve been drawing for like two hours daily before droping it…
i’m just making sketches at this point, i even drew some storyboard-like ones that go with the story i’ve got in mind, still it is very frustrating to have it laid out and not being able to give the drawings a feeling, even the one i’ve worked in the most look dreadfully sketchy…
the major issue i think now is that either i draw too little or i draw too much… i don’t want to draw realistically, i’m aiming for the manga style after all, yet it gets on my nerves to see the drawing and thinking i should be doing something more or less and not know what is it…
either way, i AM practicing (don’t let the bugs get you down), and got a pretty looking skull just today, i don’t have a scanner but when i get my hands on one i’ll upload a couple of drawings so you guys can see…

nighty

well, after years of fleeing from drawing (at all) three months ago i got back on track, i took a couple of drawing courses and now i’m taking on some online manga ones… it’s gonna be all K..
i’ll keep you posted…

i want to learn the social language… all this years i’ve gotten through (barely) by talking to people on a very essential level, the level where you can somehow get a job, or buy the groceries, and stuff… but on the social level it always has been for me as folks are speaking a whole different language, more than a “you say potatoe and i say potato” issue, is more like a warmness and relaxation that language achieves when it comes to ourselves, i suppose that’s what keeps me abay, i cannot seem to warm up and relax enough…
i believe to know what the problem is that i’ve got, but after all this time living on the ‘edge’ (not as in danger, but as in on the bounds of society), i really have no much motivation to spare where it comes to act and change attitudes that i’m currently comfortable with, except that i do want to change them… uggg, i don’t get it myself…
meanwhile, my friends take me out (they are such pushovers, i love them) and they don’t expect spatz from me, yet everytime i go i spend the night worrying about talking way too much or way too little (the latter is the forerunner), or wheter i did this or that wrong, or… well, i just worry…
even now, i don’t know how to stop, so i’ll just