The artist once known

     I've always found art to be my outlet of my rage, my depression my emotions. I think that is why it always reflects on this darker more antisocial version of myself not that I am a people person to begin with, but I do think quite differently. My artwork is something of an inner drip slowly leaking out onto a canvas be it paper or pixels it won't make sense until the full feeling is expressed. Yet I always seem to cut the piece short of that emotion. Is this my internal flaw?

     I can draw such detail and such anger and such chaos, yet myself I can never seem to display clearly. Maybe this is what is holding me back in the world as I've not yet mentally accepted myself? Theoretically I am a monster of my own creation, my own wicked god. Yet somehow I express such a need for an outlet. A way to have my views and attributes that I'm quite proud of seen. My art is not a great example of who I am but what I feel. Some may psychoanalyze this and see some inner workings of my mind they may feel they can relate to, but I don't think they will see the whole picture. The eyes are the windows to the soul and what they see is but a glimpse of what really is. Maybe that is the answer that I'm seeing far far more than I should and thus I'm blurry in detailing myself as I'm only there as a smudge in time? Maybe I should stop thinking so much.

- William Dreimann