This year was one hell of an adventure but it didn't have a fantastic start. All the leftover sadness from 2014 poured down of me through the beginning of this year and one could definitely tell from looking at my art... because there was none. I had convinced myself that art wasn't for me and that it should be left in the dust of my past self. So I didn't create because I was unhappy and I was unhappy because I didn't create. But the sack of crap that I became was determined to pick myself up once I hit rock bottom. And I did. It certainly wasn't, and still, isn't easy but overcoming this hopeless artless year has been my greatest feat yet. No I am back on track and filling up my sketchbooks and practicing harder than I ever had before. I'm happy, finally.