08-07-2020, 07:02 AM
I've been drawing since I can remember. I'm currently 19 years old so maybe that's a long time. I was blessed enough to major in Illustration and minor in Creative Writing at a very good art college in my city. It's expensive and Covid has left be very worried and unmotivated as ever. While other artists have been working hard, the last time I really drew anything was in January. My social media has been abandoned since February. It sucks. I wonder where this lack of will to do anything came from. Like I've been tossed in some sort of hole where my hands wish to move and make art but it can't. So instead of drawing I've been writing but it's not quite enough. I'm dissatisfied with everything and every narrative I spin. I got fired and that sucks so now I can make money to travel and upgrade my equipment. It's not as though what I have is bad but there's just a lot to do and while the rest of the world makes their efforts to move forward.
I'm not sure how long I've been sitting and wallowing. It's... mh, very tough to describe. Everything else crumbles and it's currently August and the last time I really drew was the last time I posted on this thread. My one passion feels like it's slipping away and I'm not exactly sure why I feel the need to vent on my thread but, I suppose since it's my thread that it's okay. This blurb can be ignored for the art at the bottom.
Something ambitious, too much so for me after not drawing for so long. Classes return in September and I'm told I need to give them $4,000 and FAFSA is silly and stupid but it's also my own fault. I began to sketch this and I cried because I hated it. It took maybe an hour including my own small wave of doubt. Will people like it? Will I like it? Here I am in a hole that fills and it's suffocating. Everything is overwhelming. I feel like I'm dying physically because I'm a moron and fucked up my ribcage, my writing feels mediocre, I'm unemployed, college is bleh and art is there and I can't face it. I'm jealous of those who figure out how to push forward when everything is stacked on top of them. People like that are superheroes, really.
Can my art reach people? Can it touch them in some way? I want to be an illustrator and I want to write stories. I want dumbass trans boys to know to bind properly so they aren't in pain for eight months. I want people to smile when they see something I drew, I want them to feel as though the stories I make are well written.
I think when you can sit down and maybe write to a friend or on a very public forum that your feelings become real and manifest. When expressed, you can no longer ignore them. Be it words, music, poetry, performance or a dumb drawing inspired from a rather nice image you saw on Pinterest.
Here's Del, they're dead but I've wanted to draw them for so long but I've been drowning. I'm not asking for pity or anything. If it's put out there in some degree then it's real and can be fought. I can say that drawing once more has made me feel just a bit better. Draw more, write more, walk outside (with a mask and safely), pet your dog or cat, hug your mom, see a friend, call someone, eat your favorite dish.
It sucks but we're all hanging in there. Move at your own pace.
I'm not sure how long I've been sitting and wallowing. It's... mh, very tough to describe. Everything else crumbles and it's currently August and the last time I really drew was the last time I posted on this thread. My one passion feels like it's slipping away and I'm not exactly sure why I feel the need to vent on my thread but, I suppose since it's my thread that it's okay. This blurb can be ignored for the art at the bottom.
Something ambitious, too much so for me after not drawing for so long. Classes return in September and I'm told I need to give them $4,000 and FAFSA is silly and stupid but it's also my own fault. I began to sketch this and I cried because I hated it. It took maybe an hour including my own small wave of doubt. Will people like it? Will I like it? Here I am in a hole that fills and it's suffocating. Everything is overwhelming. I feel like I'm dying physically because I'm a moron and fucked up my ribcage, my writing feels mediocre, I'm unemployed, college is bleh and art is there and I can't face it. I'm jealous of those who figure out how to push forward when everything is stacked on top of them. People like that are superheroes, really.
Can my art reach people? Can it touch them in some way? I want to be an illustrator and I want to write stories. I want dumbass trans boys to know to bind properly so they aren't in pain for eight months. I want people to smile when they see something I drew, I want them to feel as though the stories I make are well written.
I think when you can sit down and maybe write to a friend or on a very public forum that your feelings become real and manifest. When expressed, you can no longer ignore them. Be it words, music, poetry, performance or a dumb drawing inspired from a rather nice image you saw on Pinterest.
Here's Del, they're dead but I've wanted to draw them for so long but I've been drowning. I'm not asking for pity or anything. If it's put out there in some degree then it's real and can be fought. I can say that drawing once more has made me feel just a bit better. Draw more, write more, walk outside (with a mask and safely), pet your dog or cat, hug your mom, see a friend, call someone, eat your favorite dish.
It sucks but we're all hanging in there. Move at your own pace.
![[Image: 2ec1682976c01d9b2c0e642552771a98.png]](https://i.gyazo.com/2ec1682976c01d9b2c0e642552771a98.png)
![[Image: cb9dd72403b90bae3d8fc519b5bd7c95.png]](https://i.gyazo.com/cb9dd72403b90bae3d8fc519b5bd7c95.png)