I was an artist

Date: 1/27/2019

I was at a convention of sorts: there were hundreds (thousands) of people everywhere I turned. I went to this one corner of the crowd and there sketched out a sketch of a commission I was supposed to be doing (the subject being filled with awesome power after his loved one was lost to him tragically or something equally dramatic), but I kept drawing less important aspects of the story instead. When I was supposed to show my results, the person in charge of the meeting chastised me for going on less important tangents, so I went on a rant about how art is important because it’s inconsequential. Also a little girl kept trying to steal all my stuff. Soon I woke up.