I’m battling one of those days. You know, one of those days in which you look at your body of work and just loathe everything. Hell, I even fought a desire to shove a pencil* through my Joker’s head.

I dunno what happened. I was surfing WetCanvas, checking out some amazing artists and I succumbed to self-doubt, low confidence and general moroseness. It’s weird. It wasn’t any one drawing or piece of artwork that brought up my esteem issues. I mean, to be honest, I’ve probably been battling this for a couple days - the hair is not going well - and it just came to a head this morning. Thankfully, I’m trying to be pretty analytical about the whole thing. Ya know, less emotional, more pragmatic. But it’s hard.

If it wasn’t painfully obvious, I’m at a place where I’m not 100% certain where I want to go artistically. It’s a place I have been for years. I have a shitload of ideas, but execution has always been sorely lacking. I get so overwhelmed with how to accomplish something that I just give up and go back to something I am comfortable with. Cowardly, I know.

Let’s face it, 95% of the time, I’m a portrait artist. I’m comfortable in that place - doing that kinda work. But the snob in me really loathes that title. A portrait artist. Bleh. I hate it with the hate of a thousand suns! I know it’s completely psychological and even admitting that does a complete disservice to the thousands of amazingly talented portrait artists out there. Yeah, I’m kind of an asshole. I guess I just don’t like the title for me. It feels too limiting. And truthfully, it’s an ego thing.

The pragmatist in me knows that I will never be a hip, trendy setting artist. And honestly, I’m not sure if I want to be. Too much pressure. Too many expectations. I’m not a political artist and my work does not make anyone think. But in my feeble brain, sometimes, I’d like someone to look at my work and think something more than “…That’s a pretty picture.”

The fact is they don’t.
The fact is that I just draw pretty pictures.

I’m not saying this is a bad thing. It’s not. Pretty pictures are awesomesauce. Unfortunately, however, my ego wants me to be something more. This ginormous ego thing wants my work to be spectacularly realized, and nothing short of breath-taking. The ego wants to awe people. It’s silly - this ego thing.

In my head, I’m probably a better artist than I really am, which explains my cycle of self-doubt that rears its head sometimes. I think in those days, the harsh light of reality becomes self-evident. My skills (as they are) can’t keep up to my ego’s demand - demand which I think explains all of my “brilliant ideas” that never become fully realized.

But, I’ll tell you something, in the dark recesses of my brain, the fear is that I’ll realize that the extent of my skills and talent lie only in portraits which will lodge me into a small, little niche that I’ll be unable to emerge from.

As an artist, that is one of the most scariest things ever.

*hahahahahaha. I’m funny. What? Shut it.