Can I Do It. Oh Can I Do It.

Scary thinking today. Am I good enough to be the artist i want to be? My mother sowed the seeds of doubt. And the recent bard suicide has put me in a state of despair about the nature of life and my feeble hope that i can redeem* humanity.

*I don't like the idea of redemption. It implies i know the problem already. I have no illusions about knowing the problem. I just believe art might be a solution. My art.

I am scared i cannot be. I really was incompetent in the sketch book and drawing class and painting this week. I feel awful.

Also have kicked any sense of habitual masturbation. I wonder if that is throwing my hormones outta wack. I hope not.

I don't know my feelings on masturbation? is for the lazy and unworthy or completely natural?

what is it? is the animal urge wrong or in poor taste? does it maintain my sense of self and balance?