IslandGirl has decided to give in to the sin of sloth: instead of seeking knowledge, of giving herself dreams and goals, she has seen fit to fling out blog assignments to her readers – flinging them out with such wild abandon, you would think they were frisbees.
My assignment was to commit a self-portrait. Now I don't know how IG knew it, but I CANNOT DRAW PEOPLE. It is a drawback as deeply ingrained as my legendary mathematical retardation.
So this afternoon, as I tried – three times – to slap my face onto paper, I was able to find the time to say, 'Thank you, IG, thank you so bloody much.'
Doesn't look finished? Well, I know when to leave a party – if it starts to get ugly, and I'll say right here that the mouth and chin were giving me a damn lot of trouble - attendees should be long gone.
Besides, I choose to hide behind the honorable phrase, 'Artistic License'. Which means: 'Let the viewer beware.'
IG, I want my revenge. To paraphrase Blackadder, eternity in the company of Beelzebub and all his hellish instruments of death will be a picnic compared to five minutes with me and the pencil I used to draw this self-portrait.