One day, I woke up from a dream.
I was different in that dream.
My personality was shaped by experiences that didn’t happen
and I spent years chasing goals that didn’t exist.
So when I opened my eyes and saw that none of it was real,
it was like I never even knew my own name.

The Motivation

I’m not even gonna dance around it, a girl broke my heart so I drew this lol

Well, it does go a little deeper than that but that experience of my first truly devastating heartbreak was what eventually led to this visual developing in my mind. I’ll try not to reveal too much but what really lined me up for the brutal kick in the nuts that this experience delivered to me was a prior experience I had in college.

What happened in college?

Well dear reader, as softly as I can put it, one of my professors convinced me that I was doomed for failure; that my whole life, I had been working toward nothing, I am weak, I have nothing, I am nothing and I will never amount to anything. I will struggle, alone and without end, and I will burden my family like the boulder burdened Sisyphus until one special day, when I finally gain the courage to end my own life.

To be fair he never explicitly said those words to me but his methods for teaching his students, or to put it more accurately, “weeding us out” (these words, he did say to my class), coupled with my innocent and inexperienced 18 year old mental state, just looking for guidance and support, led directly to this toxic headspace I unfortunately remained imprisoned within for the following decade.

She saved me, until she didn’t

I came out of it with the help of a girl I met a few years later and as you might expect, bonding with a person in such a vulnerable state, I caught feelings for her. Very strong, unhealthy and co-dependent feelings lol. I’ll skip over the following few years and just say that it didn’t work out like I thought it would. I don’t hold any ill will toward her or blame her for anything — it’s just the way things go sometimes.

And just like my professor shot me down from the shaky stack of milk crates I founded my identity upon before him, she shot me down from the new shaky stack of milk crates I founded my identity upon after him, which kinda surprised me, considering I used tape the second time …

What I learned

Jokes aside, after the second total identity crisis I had in 10 years, I was kind of a mess. And when the dust settled, I could finally see the mistake I was making then and now; I was dreaming.

I had a tendency to base my peace of mind on things that were not certain. I was an idealist and I believed what people told me, without putting in the work to understand them and prove them for myself. It’s like I was sleepwalking through my own life — and that tendency tore me to shreds, twice.

If trauma like that doesn’t warrant some new artwork then I don’t know what would.

So I loaded up Photoshop and combined these elements to develop the final reference image.

I added a grid and got to work.

Art Resin

I’ve used resin on my realistic drawings before but I must say, I was on a new level of anxiety with this one. With how meaningful the image was to me, with how happy I was with the final result, I did not want to risk ruining it.

But, no pain no gain. And guess what, I ruined it LOL.

I had this genius idea to tape the edges of the wood panel in a way that created a dam to hold all of the resin on top of the image. I wanted it to literally look like a sheet of glass sitting on top of a wood panel. No run off, no dripping, just a perfect, clean and controlled work of art.

But I learned then that resin needs room to either expand or contract as it cures. And the next day I woke up to a waking nightmare. The surface of the resin was madly uneven. It was lumpy, pooled to one corner and the cherry on top, some had drained through the tape here and there and left reflective paths of resin along a few portions of the side of the panel.

Thankfully, with Art Resin, this isn’t the end of the world. Following their directions, I scrubbed and scratched up the surface of the cured resin to create a grain for the new resin to hold onto, mixed up a new batch, poured it again and after another 3 excruciatingly anxious days waiting for it to cure again, I breathed an immense sigh of relief when I saw the smooth, glossy surface I originally envisioned.

In the end

It’s now been 6 years since I saw my own beating heart out on the floor in front of me, so how am I doing now?

I’m doing well, thanks for asking. I accomplished some things, made some money, found new purpose in my life and dare I say, a much more stable sense of self. I like to consider myself to just be more aware, realistic and skeptical. I know what I know and I’m unafraid to admit when I don’t know.

The thought of loss doesn’t weigh on me so much anymore because I know I can handle it now. I sat on the brink, looked down over the edge and was able to come back down and draw some neat pictures about it.

If you ask me, that’s security you can’t buy.