So after I saw that movie with the dwarves, I finished rereading The Hobbit for the first time in probably around 20 years. I also remembered that as a wee-ish lad I had drawn a picture of Smaug, and I wanted to share it with you fine people.
There’s a box in my apartment that contains probably every sketchbook I’ve ever owned (with the exception of books from the last 3 years, which sit out in the workspace for easy access), and I thought it would be an easy mission.
However, I was not prepared for the medley of emotions that poured up from rifling through these old works of mine. It was embarrassment (was I really that bad?!) mixed with longing (things seemed so much simpler then…) sprinkled heavily with self-doubt and (mostly) unfair critique (I still use a lot of artistic conventions that I did some 17 years or more ago. I’m not sure how I feel about that).
I could not bring myself to finish digging through the sediment of my past artistic endeavors and sadly have no Smaug drawing to show you- I’m not even sure it’s still there (it probably is).
