Smile

I drew this a few years ago when I was in a weird time in my life, trying to figure out my priorities. One thing consistently came up. Perfect strangers had told me I looked sad or upset. A man even jokingly offered a quarter if I would just smile once. I took the hint. So this drawing was done as a visual manifestation of what I needed. Something simple, but important.

I wanted to smile more.

Smiling does come easier now, with friends, family, and memories. But looking at this drawing as I am today, I realized something.

The most genuine smile always comes from "that feeling."

I don't know what to call it. Love? Seems too romantic. Passion? Too strong. It's a more of a deep, slow-burning affection. A sincerity. A warmth that starts in the chest, bubbles up and out into the arms, the hands, the fingers, and flows out to the paper. And sometimes just enough reaches the lips, which curl into a quiet smile. If the pen is being particularly clever that day, it might even turn to laughter.

That feeling is what brings out the greatest smile, and the greatest drawings.

Which is why I think most people I know haven't seen it, my genuine smile. The things that draw it out are mostly art and music, things I tend to cultivate alone, lest I be labeled the aloof artist in a social setting. And to be honest, many of my friends and family aren't on the same wavelength as me with this sort of thing.

The result is me, pencil in hand, smiling to myself.

Is it a little lonely? Yes. But it's a step in the right direction.