My art was insulted. Horribly.
I was too busy yesterday with being nervous about asking the girl of my heart the big question to care...
But this morning, I heard the insults in my head again.

You want to know why I hate criticism?
Simple.
It stresses me OUT! EVERYTHING is stressing me out!
"Faw, draw this, draw that, and don't forget thatother picture!" "Faw, you have't improved, drawing something, the heck!" "Faw, you should REALLY draw something now!"

This is the reason why I can hardly pick up a pencil.
Why I can never finish a picture if I'm not in the perfect mood for it - they don't turn out good enough and end up unfinished.

This stress became too much to bear this morning.
My head began to feel like it'd explode. It made me weep. Tears slowly started building in my eyes.
I could hardly get air. My lungs were going like a machine gun.

Is this what art is supposed to do?
Hardly.


So... I have made my decision.

























NO ONE SHALL EVER AGAIN INSULT MY ART!



THERE! CRITIC ME! HIT ME WITH ALL YOU'VE GOT! I'll show you, Rad....