This is a dragon head I was sketching almost 10 years ago, trying to learn how to draw dragons. You can see the construction lines rubbed out underneath the nearly finalized linework. I never finished this one, not because of how it looked, but because stupidly I thought if I was good at art without having worked at it for years, I don't deserve to draw.

It is an ass-backward way of thinking that I can not really rid myself of. Most of my hobbies I have tried lay dormant in shelves or boxes in my room and closet, with that feeling ever lingering over my shoulder that I would fail if I did not enjoy what I did - leading to never trying at all. It is a stupid self-imposed paranoia that keeps me from taking most risks, even with such inane things as re-learning to juggle - which I actually had fun with in high school with a juggling club I had joined.