Frog!
This guy is somewhat depressing to me.
I painted him (oil on walnut) when I was seventeen years old.
I dare say when I was at my peak.
Before I was an art major.
Being an art major was the biggest mistake of my life.
Even beyond some really stupid personal stuff!
I expected, essentially, to go to learn the technology of art.
They taught style.
(This was in the late 1970's)
They wanted me to "Specialize" in my sophomore year.
I said I hadn't adequately explored the mediums, yet, to decide on a specialty.
Besides, my major was art education, and I figured I'd teach in a small town school. I didn't want to back myself into a trap.
Being an art major was one of the two most expensive majors at that time.
I was called an "Illustrator" not an "Artist" (??? So what's the difference?)
I was told to hang around more with other art majors, and stop hanging around with the science majors.
Sorry, I didn't find the other art majors very interesting, and the ones I tried to hang around with were either dopers (I'm very allergic to pot) or religious fanatics.
I argued a lot.
I called my instructors hypocrites.
To their faces, and in the class room.
I still hate impressionism and cubism.
I burned out.
It took me ten years to get out of that burn out.
I have never regained the flair I had when I was seventeen.
Not to be published with out the permission of Kate "McCridhe"