When I was younger, I loved my birthday. I loved how this singular day of the year was revolved around me. I awaited the arrival of my friends to my birthday party to celebrate that I was growing up. Merely 5 years later, I cry on my birthday because it makes me realize the more birthdays that pass, the less birthdays I have left. Every year on May 23rd, I celebrate with my family my survival to a new year of me. At the end of the night, I shed tears of reminiscence pondering envy of the girls who aren't terrified to grow up like I am and have the luxury of enjoying their special day. This piece resembles the feeling of grief for the loss of the innocent girl I once was who had no idea what birthdays truly meant. The emotion I have created in this piece is what drives the feeling I hope the viewer can experience through the lines shaped across the paper.