I often look at my older art and think “how did I come up with that? That shit was so good!”. And then I realize: most big artists of Olde just redrew the same shit over and over. How many 3/4 self portraits did Van Gogh need, really? Monet and his 26154 paintings of a river with some flowers? Picasso’s jank ass garbage?
So it dawned on me: I’m gonna start redrawing my old shit. Because it’s mine and I can. I’m gonna feast on the corpse of my past self. Because that bitch could art and didn’t give a fuck. And that bitch is me. If it’s good enough for those dead artists it’s good enough for me.