Layers of Fear review: This isn't painting by numbers

If a picture can paint a thousand words, how many letters must an artist write to get his point across?

No doubt, just mentioning the words artist and insane will make you think of a couple of well-known painters. Van Gough being one of the most infamous, slicing part of his own ear off and is suspected to have suffered from very severe depression.

Michaelangelo, responsible for the incredible frescoes painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel is supposed to have been both brilliant and tormented, never washing and sleeping fully clothed. To dip further into fantasy, author Oscar Wilde's titular character Dorian Gray worshipped and fell prey to his own vanity, selling his soul so that the painting of him would age and rot instead, ideally keeping him young and beautiful forever.

I don't presume to know anything about art itself. I can't draw or paint in the least, my creative prowess with a pencil is limited to phallic shapes and cats, and my prowess with paints is limited to just phallic shapes. That being said, I LOVE art. I'm envious of people who can make music, or create things with their hands and the end result is pretty much how they intended it to be. Somewhere inside me, I think there is a miscommunication between my head and my hands, because what lives in my mind's eye never resembles anything I make.

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