A Stroke Of Love, Part 1

Y'know, I've been holding pencils and pens for the majority of my life, scribbled on enough papers to demolish an entire forest - anyway, cutting a long tangent short, I should be pretty well-learned at doing both. 

But go ahead and premise it into a quick, quirky game and suddenly it's like I've never held a single thing between my fingers my whole entire life. 

They always say you should put your mind to it and the rest will follow. Well, I'm the opposite it seems, I put my mind on anything too much and it'll just self-implode and this here winds up being the result: dumb, dull me struggling to comprehend the concept of put-skinny-drawing-stick-in-hand please, for the love God, just hold it properly. 

"Should I strike a pose?" Amanda asked, standing back far enough away to remain blind to my ongoing internal breakdown. "How do you want me to draw me?"