Every so often I draw my face. I’m a willing subject, and as someone that doesn’t spend hours staring at herself in the mirror, it’s a strange reality check. I don’t love my own face, I don’t think I have to. As far as faces go, it certainly is one. Drawing it has become a little challenge to see if I can draw myself exactly as I am, and not as I’d like to be.
I care about myself. I put effort into the way I dress. I eat right and stay clean. My vices are enjoyed responsibly. I know myself very well, but I fail to recognize my own face sometimes.
So. Here she is.
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Now put your head on one of those tiny bodies flying an airplane or driving a car or something. Instant classic.