Tommorrow morning a courier is coming to my house to pick up three of my drawings, which I have had framed, and take them to Liverpool.
I am entering them into a drawing competition. It is quite a prestigious competition and I’m sure I don’t stand an earthly chance of being selected and yet… there is a part of me now that says “where’s it written that you don’t stand a chance, why not?”.
This voice is gradually getting louder and for once has made all my other insecure voices start to fade.
If I don’t enter I definitely won’t stand a chance, so I’m going to give it a go.
‘Seated Nude’ Conte Crayon