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Portrait of a friend
A dear friend of my family is turning 75 soon and his daughter has come up with a brilliant idea for a gift: each member of his family and close friends are all given a couple of A4-sized papers on which they'll each write their fondest memory of him which will all be gathered and made into a book.
My father has written four pages himself and thought that he'd leave the last two to us kids (me and my brothers). He's the one who came up with the idea that I should draw H. because it would make an extra personal and special gift. So I sat down yesterday and started on the first lines and then finished it this morning. I'm fairly pleased about it but I realize that I really have to start practicing my skills more.
Hi. res. for those who're into the small details:
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I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy.
I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.
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