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This is your brain on art:

lba

on May 27, 2008

Art to the kind of person like myself is in so many ways worse than any drug on earth. It really does start out as just a little doodling, and then you find you're not half bad at it. ( Or at least you don't suck at it as much as everything else. ) So soon you buy a sketch pad instead of a lined notebook. Next, you're buying different hardnesses of pencil. Then, before you know it, you're grabbing a few watercolours and markers to mess with and experimenting with tortillions. Soon enough, your bedroom has 356 different sketchbooks ranging from 4"x6" to 3'x4' and you think you had a dog, but you're not sure where it is any more. Possibly underneath of that pile of oil pastels in the corner. And now that you mention it, wasn't the cat poking around the stack of cardboard you were saving up for when you had a good sculpture idea? After a while, you forget you ever had friends, family or even a spouse ( Or significant internet other depending on how far you've gone. ). You're selling your car and getting a bike, so you can save more money for photography trips and all your coworkers are calling you "the art hippy" behind your back. At some point, you eventually realize that you could have gotten a massive villa bigger than the Queen Mary 2 ( And twice as opulent. [Yes, I'm going to make you learn new words people. You don't get a choice.] ) with all the money you spent on supplies. But that doesn't matter to you, because at this point, you're famous and you don't care.

And least when you're on DeviantArt.