Illustration is something I've really loved for a long time. My friend Angela and I doodled a lot of "fashiony cool girl" characters in intermediate school, with enormous oval heads and big lashy eyes. I don't know why, but that was the preferred style. We'd pass these back and forth between classes and tape them to our desks; we even sold our drawings to classmates in a 6th grade project once? Of course they weren't very good (though hers were consistently better than mine), but I drew with her every day because it was fun.
Since then I slowly stopped sketching, because, tragically, I grew up and learned to be afraid of making mistakes. I won't want to start something unless I can do it perfectly, and that's the worst attitude in the entire universe for a creative person to have. I'm at the grueling stage right now of taking my fingers that have got, yes, a bit of talent in them, and using them to make the best thing I can, even though my best is not very awesome yet.
I had a miserable time falling asleep last night. I don't really know if it's because I had thousands of dazzling illustration ideas flooding my brain, or if my body was trying to kill me via bloodsugar violence. Probably 50/50? In any case, I'm a groggy little gremlin right now, but I'm happy for the inspiration, and that I somehow managed to scribble down a few of those thoughts in the dark. Notes scrawled out at 2AM are kind of hilarious by the light of day.
Anyway, I've got a long way to go with my drawing skillz, but I know if I keep working, I'll be making myself way proud someday.