This portrait is upsetting.
It doesn't look a thing like me despite the fact that I watched myself in the mirror while drawing it.
But that's not why I'm doing this so I have to let that go. I also wanted to stylize it in a cubist fashion and that too was a miss.
Despite this, while I was drawing it, I had dreams of being an expat:
In Spain where I can use my fluent Spanish, or Brazil or better- Portugal where I can truly live in peace as a bohemian. Berlin! Yes! Italy.
I would do France if the women were friendlier. How dreamy even still!
It will hopefully be - one day soon. Until then, in my face I see tonight:
Quite a bit of sadness
I don't want to stay away. I just want an adventure. I thought New York might be it but it's too expensive, too crowded, too concrete.
Though the people and music are wonderful, it's likely not for me. Why not be speaking something other than English?
I'm good at languages and would love to pick up another one.
Goodnight dreamers, thanks for dreaming.