I'm a self-professed expressionist...not. I am NOT an artist. But this just takes me back to those days when I'd marvel and gape at the little things my two hands could create. After the looooongest time my brushed layed tucked away, I tried to be artistic.
I'm still nobody's artist. Nobody's.

This is a product of hours and hours of contemplating on what I was supposed to paint for art class. I must say, it isn't half bad (trust me, I've painted worse). I guess this also reveals my biggest frustration of all...The Sax.

Jazz helped me break the mold. Haha. Kinda looks like wimpy from popeye playing a tenor sax.
Haha. I guess these are just one of those things your fridge would be proud to hold up. Those things I can't help but be proud of...not because of what it is, but because of all the blood, sweat and tears (Well maybe sweat) to make put it all together. 2 hours of paint, emerging from art class more decorated than anything. But it was sooo worth it.

So let me know what you think. :) It's a first. So bear with me :)