you don't really care what the hell you're drawing? These days, when I'm painting, the thought that hovers at the back of my head is really only this :
"I don't give a shit."
I couldn't care less if I was drawing a cake or a vase or another woman or pudding with chocolate. They're all interchangeable, and when I ask myself why I draw, why I do style experiments, why I experiment with color styles, the only answer I have is "Because I can."
Which, is a shitty reason to do art.
It's like breathing not to live, but breathing because you can. Isn't it depressing? I envy people who have so much direction and love for what they do. All the skil