I went to an Art shop. Crazy place, with all kinds of supplies one can ever imagine. Like a kid in a candy shop, I walked around, bewildered, hopelessly lost, for half an hour. And afterwards overwhelmed, and overcome by this sudden desire to sketch, I bought myself a piece of charcoal.
I sketched all evening, creating black and white "imperfect" impressions of everything within eye-range. My hands were black and grubby, and a few stray fingerprints adorned all my sketches: looked like a criminal had left his mark, but I felt happy.
The last sketch I did was a self portrait, without a mirror. Now, I don't particularly like looking into mirrors. So I sketched this big mass of hair for starters, and did some pulling pushing this side- that side: used my fingers for the shadow effect. Made a face. And voila, it was done.
Now, every budding artist needs an admirer. So, here comes A, who looks at my evenings effort, and appreciates the last sketch: Hey! Nice! That looks so much like Michael Jackson? Especially, the hair!
1) Charcoal is not my medium
2) Need to change my hairstyle.