I don't talk about how I feel about things because I just... don't. But I talk. And I talk a lot. It's pretty clear just how verbose I can be, even though my mind doesn't even think in words. I'm not sure how to describe it (haha, to reference the 2nd piece I did for this Sustained Investigation) but I know how it feels. Or, at least I think I do.

Bear with me and my tragic backstory for a moment—which isn't really all that tragic. The bulk of the matter is that I don't catch on to social cues whatsoever, which makes me really awkward when it comes to conversating. Basically, I don't know when to STOP conversating.

And no one ever tells me.

Over the years, I've been able to pick up on certain signs that a person is growing tired of talking about the topic currently in conversation, but I never catch on to them until I glance around and realize that I'm talking to myself. And then I have to wonder how long it's been since the last person listening had turned away.

Crop of a WIP of this piece. The whole piece is eighteen by twenty-four inches in size (18''x24'') and done mostly with pen and marker.

This process was as normal as it could've been—at the start, at least. I got my sketch done, and started on the pen/ink work in the corners so I could get going on the colors and lines. Everything was going just fine, and I was on track to get the piece done by the deadline, if not early.

I was working on an essay when my mom walked in the office to remind me about my cousin's wedding that was happening over the weekend, since we'd be leaving to go on an eight-hour drive right after I got out of school on Friday. I didn't think anything of it, but the next day I realized just how stressed the reminder had made me. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I was stressing out so badly.

And then I thought I knew. Sure enough, I checked my planner, and the due date for the art piece was the Monday after the weekend I'd be out of town, returning on Sunday through that eight-hour drive. I'll be honest, I basically panicked. And then I realized that since we were driving up, I could just bring my art with me and hopefully work on it in the hotel room during any spare hour I could scrounge up. And it worked, almost.

After working for a few hours in the hotel room, I actually had to get ready to go to the wedding. I felt incredibly unproductive while doodling in my sketchbook during the reception, since the adults were all dancing and I was a bit overwhelmed by the loud music and the flashing lights. Not to mention we were in a different time zone, even though that was the least of it. But I got sick the next day, Sunday, which was when we were heading home. I gave up at two in the morning and decided just to do as much as I could during the day. I got a decent amount of work done, but I failed to meet the deadline. Again. (Please note that this procrastination thing keeps happening, because it's actually really relevant and important to another piece I've got in the works.)

Lesson learned: never forget about out-of-state weddings and never leave your projects to do on the weekends. Don't put yourself through that stress that I had to go through.

Skip ahead to after the critique, when I was still trying to work on the piece. I sat down and just worked on it. I got the top completed, but the majority of the piece was largely unfinished. I took a break for a while to work on smaller pieces and holiday presents, and even making a goofy Instagram post for the piece. I didn't want to burn out my motivation to finish the piece.