I’ve just finished to trace my personal type on draft.
The swift day. I woke up, run, found my flash card and drew the big cartoon. Actually I didn’t work hard, all the time thinks distracked me and view dropped on window, wall or something else. But I’ve elaborated two faces and many hands. Midday I come to store for new stretcher. I wore a blues and was listening colourful music. Untill hot isn’t so ugly I catch moments of drops out of reallity. I tried to smile to think good and trample all sad inside. Maybe my composition for language culture has gone on plesant alive memories. They’ve started to occupy my mind and reap pieces of hope and joy.
Second part of day was for compose the personal type on a list. Again I couldn’t be in time for sketches.