Now, I am a packrat. I have stuff from the beginning of 9th grade (fall of 1998), when I began to draw in earnest. Actually, I didn't really start to try until late 1999-2000, when the anime influence hit me like a ton of bricks. I apparently drew anime-style stuff before I had ever seen anime. I drew a few cartoons in 7th and 8th grade, but they were worthless.
So today I went through the piles and piles of drawings in my room, and a few from other rooms as well - because I am such a packrat that I have thrown less than 10 drawings away (all within the last few weeks, oddly enough. I ripped them up first) and I have a difficult time parting with the physical copies of drawings. I become attached to them. I have always been told my work displays a lot of emotion, and there is a reason. That's my soul on paper. That's my heart displayed in so many pixels. And that's why I hate the last two Marla drawings. There's almost nothing behind them. The first was drawn from a description Greg gave me of his ideal girl, almost without realizing it. Apparently, I hit it on the head.
Today I have seen that god damn it, I sucked donkey balls. There are no words to describe how much I SUCKED. Fortunately, I suck slightly less now (and now I charge for it. *tiddy-boom*).
I have seen incarnations of Makenzie, Chris, Kaen, Alek, Deva, and Kameko that I hope I never lay eyes on again, but I will, and often, because I am like that.
I want to do webcomics again. But I won't even attempt to start unless I know I can keep going. And that means first I have to write out the damned story. My life is pretty boring; I wanted Makenzie's to be more interesting.
Mmmm, celery. I could live off of celery.