I probably will try to go back to this.  I hate the sun and the sky around it.

I wanted to share how hard it is for me to work.  I am paralyzed by feelings of inadequacy, incompetence, and worst of all, lack of heart.  I don’t believe I have sufficient talent to sell my art, and if that is what I hope for, why should I try? Those voices echoing in my head that say,

“You may never go anywhere with your painting.”

“It can be a hobby without expectations. Just enjoy it like a normal person.”

“It’s okay if you are not really that good.”

Those words scream in my head every time I want to pick up my brush.  It makes me feel foolish to think I am an artist.

I imagine my paintings on a gallery wall and strangers come to see them.  Why would I choose to torture myself so I can fail at an impossible hope?  I thought I was good when I was young.  I really, really did.  And so did my brother.  Now I am older and all faith is lost.

My family offers to buy my classwork.  That’s sort of sad…  It is not that good.  I need a coach to keep me from giving up too soon after starting too late…