For a guy who considers himself to be at least somewhat artistic, I can’t draw very well at all. Whenever my pencil touches paper, a grotesque abomination crawls out, scaring its creator into throwing his utensil out the window and hiding under his bed like a girl. You know how girls hide under beds all the time.
 
To remedy this situation, I have begun my Sketchbox – a box of index cards I will eventually fill with small drawings, just for practice, no pressure. It’s perfect. It’s beautiful. You’re jealous.
 
Seen here is the first posted entry – A British Man. I do hope you enjoy.
 
More to come.