I was cleaning my room out yesterday when I stumbled upon my old art portfolio from freshman year of college.  For a semester I really felt I could be the next Andy Warhol (except much sexier and with more manageable hair) until one day I realized I was terrible.  

This stuff… is horrifying.  My portfolio lurks in dark alleys and hides underneath children’s beds.  Below is an example, please enjoy my creativity:

I titled it: Hope and Seduction (the Future of America).  Ugh.

Look at how deep I was.  Look at the imagery.  This piece just screams “Look at how talented I am at cutting pictures out of magazines and gluing them to a piece of poster board”.  Mr Rogers is holding a puppet that’s fishing for children in a black ocean and a kid is happily collecting handfuls of cigarettes.  That’s LIFE said the little girl that looks like she’s smoking a joint!  I think it’s about corruption.  Or the effects of fetal alcohol syndrome.  Or the advantages of proper swim safety.  Actually I don’t understand it at all.  Why did I keep this…