Fliich

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Since my terrible twos, a pencil, pen, or whatever writing utensil is present has been the outlet of turning my creative thoughts into something tangible. I can not count on all my fingers and toes the number of sunrises I have seen as a result of staying up all night working on a current drawing, because I was just too entranced to put the pencil down. For those of the world who can not comprehend what drives this behavior, I tell them this: I am forever driven by the creation of art, the beauty contained in each calligraphic line, and all the infinite possibilities waiting to be brought to life through my own two hands. The back of a receipt in the bottom of my purse is a blank canvas waiting to be covered. With a passion this epic, sleep can wait.