My brain is so naive. It thinks it is an accomplished artist…rsrsrs

LEARNING THE SECRETS OF THE OPTICAL ILLUSION. An exclusive approaching to portraiture and optical illusion.

The delicious feelings of gladness and accomplishment invaded my heart when the optical illusion birds came up. I felt that all those years of isolating me from this orbit to look for something original and exquisite have paid off. I am still thinking about a proper name do describe it, but striking can start to define it.

I have been really hurting about this being an artist thing, and really despondent trying to prove myself. Our society preaches that it is all about worth something. How much does an artist worth in these modern times? How much my creative mind will count in the ocean of artificial intelligence?

My brain only thinks about fantasy, it filters reality from life and reside in another dimension. So it dwells in the surreal world of boundless and resplendent insights, completely aloof to the surroundings, and, when it comes back, it brings only poetry and these impalpable assets from the spiritual realm which serves only to inspire, adorn and to comfort. Nothing else. This can sounds cute but it is terrible; one will need a little bit more reality than that to survive.

When I get depressed about the artist’s hardships, my brain comes up with millions of images for encouragement. It tries to cheer me up showing me my own accomplishments and the body of work I have done with my own hands, and it goes on and on reminding me that I have created more than 3000 exclusive pieces of art, and that I have grown so much from those childish watercolors from the first phase, to sophisticated drawings with an intelligent visual and a pungent message. Like a simpleton, it really thinks it is showing me something really big.

I used to get irritate and reproached this naive interference telling it that I did not see anything from another world that people could stop to pay attention to, so now I cannot say it anymore. When my brain bothers me with images of this future glory, with this art being recognized and placed in all the cute villages of this colorful world, filled with lights and delicious smells of cookies, it shows me the uniqueness of these birds designs, and it keeps talking in my head, cluttering my imagination with the hope that will becoming reality; and this and that, and here and there; and all that it shouts night and day when it steals my sleep with these surreal unending self-made movies.

So here it is, you judge for yourself and tell me if you could stop for a minute to look at these.

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