Once upon a time, probably up until my Juniour year of high school, I was an artist... In every concept I considered myself one. I knew that I didn't need to attend or graduate from a prestigious art school to be an artist. I knew this, and so I willingly and proudly called myself one.

Around the middle of my Juniour year of high school, I stopped. Completely. I had this huge artist's block, and... I just gave up. I couldn't force myself to draw under these circumstances. I couldn't force myself to look at these pieces of trash I scribbled aimlessly onto paper. I even stopped drawing in class. It was all trash, worthless, mindless trash. How could I call myself an artist when I finally realised that what I was doing was amounting to nothing but trash to me? I can even look back at the stuff I did starting in 6th grade and say it's good. It's badly put together, but good. It has feeling, and emotion, and reason in it... That was the reason in my art, my heart and emotions. It was my way of saying, look -- this is everything I've got. You either love me, or you don't, and I don't give a shit if you hate me... But how could I force myself to just draw? To create something that was supposed to reflect myself into the world in color and line if I can't put my heart in it.

So I gave up, and just didn't touch the subject anymore. Maybe I said it, maybe even disdainfully at myself. I'm an artist... No, when I finally entered college, and took my major. I realised then I was never going back; how could I?

I regret, every day. Not going to art school instead. I really do. I didn't need the school under my belt, to be an artist... I needed the inspiration to put me back there. But I'd stopped drawing, I'd stop being an artist...

The concept behind being an artist... It was drawing every day, making myself better... Seeing how much I've improved.


I won't stop drawing. I can't. It's in my heart, it's in my blood. I'm simply. Not an artist anymore.

I'm just some girl who draws, and is good at it. I may evolve, I'll probably get better. Maybe I'll even study art again.

You know, before you say it? I know that it's not just something you can go through and not come back to. You can't go through childhood twice, I know it's not like that... It's not even my pride that lets it stop me.

It's the fact that I love art, and everything that it's about, that stops me.

I know I hit that small point in senior year of high school, where I was almost back. And then I got another boyfriend. What was I thinking?