[02.04.08]

"Something. To stop me from opening my mouth and screaming.

The sketch is something old, background and part of the grass, equally as old. I seem to have this habit of. Starting an image, but never getting around to finishing it. I don't. Draw anything new anymore, I can't. My sketchbooks lie idle in my lap waiting for me to think of something beyond a blank page.

Anatomy needs work. Everything needs work. Give me a second's rest, its an old image that I felt strangely. Compelled. To finish.

Centerleft[Left of Center] is mine, one of those curious creations that used to leap out of my dreams. I don't dream as I used to; that vivid feeling is lost."