At one point in my life I wanted to be a comic book artist. I know I used to draw a lot, but I’ve never really bothered keep track of what I drew or when. Now that I see this old sketch book my mom found, I remember drawing all this, and all the hopes and dreams I had when I was making them. I’m not exactly sure when I did these, but based on the last two, they were done in the years leading up to high school.
I sense a strange mix of geekiness, artistry, angst and anger in all this. I am sure my early self, the one that drew all these, would have be mortified to see my current self sticking them up on the web like this. I’m glad I’m not that kid anymore, and can look back on these drawings without the embarrassment I had in my youth. Talk about a Napoleon Dynamite, “Lyger” moment here.
It is amazing what some old drawings can stir up in ye ole’ noggin. There is so much buried down in my psyche that I don’t often access, yet is still present and influential in my personality.