I wanted to write about how strange and great it is to cry over the comment that someone love your art and they would like to print it. Like, put it in the real world. But at the end of the day I’m too tired to feel anything. This is a state when you can feel your skull is filled with blood and you don’t distinguish between good or bad thoughts, ideas or solutions. It’s just … “shut up the brain, don’t talk to me anymore”. Fuf.. I received a commission today for one panel for $ 160 and .. honestly, it was whatever also cause didn’t feel anything. Damn, I would like to give a positive comment here! Sorry, I can’t. I guess I should be glad that I painted this page. By the way, the author sucks in the “physical” descriptions. Which is perfect for me to come up with stuff which is not in the story. Like last 5 pages which is All that was)