My commissioned portrait is now done. I had to scrape the dredges of my soul, but the thrill overwhelmed the sight of the devil’s claws clutching that long-sold piece of divine flesh. I’m tempted to say I don’t give a monkey’s what the client thinks, because I love it, but the reality is my seemingly eternal giddiness is balanced precariously on the genuine reaction of this. It should be okay though, I’ve failed so many, many, many times before, and I still dogmatically believe myself to be, well, something not unlike god.
