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I've been watching my niece for the past three days while my bro is working on fixing up his new house, so I haven't been doing much art, (besides coloring and drawing with her). But this is the painting I started before I got busy babysitting. It's the biggest artwork I've ever done, 30 by 40 inches. I think my painting skills are improving, but I'm never, never, never never happy with my art. I just wanna burn everything and start fresh. But whatever, I just gotta keep improving. Maybe someday my art will live up to my standards. I can't get there without constantly making art. Some of the most famous artists weren't shit until they reached middle age, so I can't compare myself to child prodigies, cause that ain't me.

Sometimes art is very therapeutic for me, but some days, like today, it's a cause of great stress and anxiety. I'm not great at gauging what is good vs. bad art, so how can I ever know if my art is good? Also, validation doesn't mean shit, because I honestly don't care what anyone thinks of my art, unless I see that they have really great taste and are brutally honest, but I haven't met anyone like that. No offense to everyone I've ever met, but they're either biased, or they have shit taste, so what they say doesn't mean much. All the critics say that good art should be authentic and have emotion and creativity, but even when I do something I'm proud of in the moment, one week later I'm like, this sucks shit thru a straw, I can't paint or draw, or write, this isn't anything special, and I'll never have a unique perspective because I'm too sheltered and boring, and merely being anxious and depressed isn't enough to make me an interesting artist. I should've had abusive parents, or brain damage, or lots of different lovers who died, or I need to be in NYC or somewhere with other artists. Drawing thorns, writing in spiky cursive, painting in black, a whole novel about a hot mess drug addicted model living in LA in the 70s will never be authentic or edgy, because no matter what, no matter what, no matter what I go through, or paint, or try, I'll never be good enough. I'll never be exciting, I'll never achieve my dreams, this is all a distraction. I'm just pretending to be an artist. And no one is reading this. Thank God. Just a sad online journal(:

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