Alright let’s kill this sucka.

“What sucka?” I hear you ask. Well FOP, of course. And the P-word. I cannot write it or say it our loud or my P-scars will itch. And I don’t like itching. I do love scratching, though.

But, more than itching and scratching, I like scribbling and doodling. And tickling. So let me show you what I’ve also been up to during these silent weeks.

Okay, months. 3 months and 24 days, but who’s counting?

drawing time

I’ve been attending a drawing course since January here in Rijeka (…where I moved? …in December? you should really follow me on Twitter for those fine details), and L-L-L-L-LOVING IT!

It has proved wonders for me to me to go somewhere where I’m just supposed to draw. (off-topic: is this sentence grammatically correct? well, I like it so I’ll leave it be.)

The drawing class. I’m more focused when I’m working there, and ridiculously happy afterwards.

Here’s one of my first drawings from the class, back in January:

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It’s nice… but it’s boring to me. I’m not interested in watching it for more than 5 seconds. It’s like a romantic comedy starring Jennifer Aniston. Looks nice, but I’m not getting lost in it.

tickling time

After I expressed my teacher what bothers me (”It’s too anal!”) , she gave me a task not to draw a single long line, to draw hysterically.
And most importantly: NOT. TO USE. THE .ERASER.

Now I’m someone who maniacally erases the first 50 lines, and only then is some kind of drawing starting to show, after all the lines are pressed in the paper and there’s a colony of  eraser worms around my table. Very uptight about the beginning. Very sad, actually.

So when I first tried to draw without calculating the right position and angle and pressure of the first stroke, I couldn’t do it. It was…disturbing. It tickled my brain, uncontrollably so.

I laughed while doing it, and HATED it. Well, hated NOT GETTING it.

This is what I first got:

Ewww…I hated it.

It was a disgrace for me.

But.. I kinda liked that tickling of the brain. Specifically, the tickling of the left brain.

So I continued, I bent every straight and snapped every curved line. I was killing my rational drawing sucka.

Eventually I found myself loving it completely, and didn’t pick the pencil up from the paper. I had to be stopped. But I was thrilled.

And what I got, was much more to my taste:

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Yes, it’s wonderful that he joined her in the picture, but the lines! The lines! They are ALIVE!

I am alive! I found something I thought was hard to reach. Happy, happy djuro.

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