Today It just seemed to hit me. As I was sitting there finishing up my sketch of my sister with pencil I realized how far I have come in art. I am looking through my work to put my portfolio together again and I see all my crap drawings. Back then I thought they were great. I recall telling myself "Wow This is so great! I can't believe they look so good." Now I look at them and the only thing that comes to mind is "Wow this is horrible looking! I can't believe I thought these were good.." I am amazed how refined my work is becoming. I am far from being perfect, but there is something changing with my style. It reminds me why I fell in love with art in the begining. I love how art is always changing and there is something new to discover every time.

A lot of people do not realize how much I owe to art. It was my friend when no one else was. My way of escaping the world around me. At times I found the only way to express my feelings was through art. It is true I used art to cut myself off from the world, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Because those quiet nights were the best memories I have. I still recall the drumming of the rain across the window. I still feel the movement of pencil slowly etching my emotions within each line. So these scrappy old drawings may not be the greatest looking, but they are each a memory I cherish. Each dear to me in some way. If anything they are a reminder not only how far I have come in art, but how far I have come as a person. It may seem rather silly, but it is true that art has changed me. Just as my art has changed over the years.