Dear Diary transforms a sketchbook page into something both intimate and exposed. Taken directly from one of my personal sketchbooks, the piece combines repeated studies of the same reference image, each figure shifting slightly, to reflect the instability of being newly eighteen and caught between girlhood and adulthood. It explores the strange contradiction of being expected to move through the world as a woman while still feeling like a girl.

The handwritten entries scattered across the page act almost like private evidence: thoughts originally meant only for myself, tied to a specific day and preserved as a diary record, feelings before they can be rationalized. Notes about getting a driver’s license, anxiety, and the pressure of ordinary milestones reveal how adulthood can feel both mundane and deeply overwhelming. Including these words creates tension between confession and concealment; they are visible, but still feel secret.

The slight exaggerations in the features, especially around the mouth and eyes, make the figures feel vulnerable, almost unsettled, as if they are still becoming. The work relies on loose ink drawing with expressive cross-hatching and layered line work. The marks are intentionally uneven—some quick and scratchy, others dense and dark—creating a sense of movement rather than polish.