My Pink Lady. I love this drawing - it’s not a self-portrait, but I truly believe it’s my soul gazing out into the world though. At a time when I felt deeply lost, adrift in this life, I took an online portrait class. Normally, I avoid capturing faces in my art - but in this moment, I dared myself to do so. Is it perfect? No, but what is? Art is subjective, after all. It felt like I had poured my very being onto the paper, an eruption of paint, charcoal, pastel everywhere, like my soul was screaming to be seen. These are the moments I crave, where I lose myself so completely, so intensely, that time ceases to exist. It’s euphoric, this state of surrender, where every stroke, every mark is a release of emotion I didn’t even know I was holding onto. The expressive style of the painting felt like an extension of myself, a piece of me I had finally found. In this drawing, I found connection - not just to the art, but to myself.
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