Father's Day

I think I've made a tradition.

Also, I've just realized that I hadn't drawn a thing since last year's father's day.

No wonder I've gone insane. 

Making things keeps me calm and having something I've just made thrown in the trash makes me a blubbering infant.

I've always avoided people. My earliest memory was of avoiding people. Making things help me cope. It's not that I don't like people, I just don't like being around them. I can speak to them just fine over the internet. As long as it's typed, I can pretend that I'm a pretty cool person who doesn't end up crying over the thought of going in a room full of people when I've filled my people quota.

I'm getting a clearer view of myself. Everything written down so neatly helps keep chaos out of my head.

I feel like I'm a small hard drive. Limited space. But I save everything, everything that happens to me, everything I read, everyone I meet, how I feel during the day. Making things is like making a hard copy of some things inside me, putting it instead in the things I make with my own hands. Making more room to breathe and think in inside my head. More space to cope with the number of people I'm around each day.

I haven't made anything in a year. I felt I was going to explode. I'll make more things this year.