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10 years ago
So I'm doing much better this week. I don't know if I can chalk it up to resilience or exhaustion, but I've done some healing or something.
Red's memorial was lovely. I went with three dear friends, my boyfriend, and my dad, and having them near was invaluable. Red's momma hugged me, told me to stay positive, and let me cry on her shoulder. She's a sweetheart.
I've been making an effort to tell all my friends and family how I feel about them. I was never shy about it before, but I don't want there to be any doubt. I don't want to ever wonder again if someone knew exactly how much I loved them. If that makes me sentimental, well, stamp my ass and call me a Hallmark card, but it feels pretty nice.
I've been using music to cope a lot lately. It's always been a go-to but considering how much music that Red and I shared, it's been invaluable. This one has been my soundtrack this morning, off and on. I keep coming back to it. It kept me company after my last breakup and it's been doing my heart some good today as well.
"You got a shock to your system
Pull yourself out of it
I know that shock to your system
Knocked your heart right out of sync"
"You must rely on love once in a while
To give you reason
You must rely on me once in a while
To give you reason"
(And hello yes, showing my stereotypical queer girl stripes here, I guess. I love Tegan and Sara, no shame.)
I suppose one slim silver lining of a complete system shock like that is getting my head out of my ass. For some weeks/months I've been doing the 'woe is me, why am I so terrible at everything' ennui crap. Art was hard. I'd been dealing with the recently (but thoroughly) learned conviction that my dumb animal people art isn't good enough and I should be doing the kind of artwork that my professors would've applauded. (Y'know, the kind of work I have no interest in doing.) Same old funk that locked me into years of not touching a pencil after I graduated.
It was an easy slide from there to just losing confidence in my skill completely. I have so much work to do to bring my work to the next level, that ever-moving upward goal, after all. How could a burnt-out failure like me possibly push that high? I had already given up on Higher Art, I never pursued any of the things college trained me for (teaching or gallery work); what business did I have doing any of that "aspiring" crap?
But, as Red would've said, "Normal ain't nothin' but a setting on a washing machine." I like what I draw, which is really the important thing here. She liked what I draw. Other people seem to like it as well. Their opinions aren't less valid just because they don't hold a university teaching position. My interest isn't less valid just because I've been steered away from it.
Drawing has felt good again. The challenge of things I haven't drawn yet is inspiring rather than overwhelming. The stories I have in my head about my flawed little animal folks feel like they're worth telling. After all, she was always excited to hear about them and brainstorm with me. They're worth being told, the images in my head are worth being drawn. There are undoubtedly people who would find them stupid, but those aren't the people I should ever worry about pleasing.
No more somedays.
Red's memorial was lovely. I went with three dear friends, my boyfriend, and my dad, and having them near was invaluable. Red's momma hugged me, told me to stay positive, and let me cry on her shoulder. She's a sweetheart.
I've been making an effort to tell all my friends and family how I feel about them. I was never shy about it before, but I don't want there to be any doubt. I don't want to ever wonder again if someone knew exactly how much I loved them. If that makes me sentimental, well, stamp my ass and call me a Hallmark card, but it feels pretty nice.
I've been using music to cope a lot lately. It's always been a go-to but considering how much music that Red and I shared, it's been invaluable. This one has been my soundtrack this morning, off and on. I keep coming back to it. It kept me company after my last breakup and it's been doing my heart some good today as well.
"You got a shock to your system
Pull yourself out of it
I know that shock to your system
Knocked your heart right out of sync"
"You must rely on love once in a while
To give you reason
You must rely on me once in a while
To give you reason"
(And hello yes, showing my stereotypical queer girl stripes here, I guess. I love Tegan and Sara, no shame.)
I suppose one slim silver lining of a complete system shock like that is getting my head out of my ass. For some weeks/months I've been doing the 'woe is me, why am I so terrible at everything' ennui crap. Art was hard. I'd been dealing with the recently (but thoroughly) learned conviction that my dumb animal people art isn't good enough and I should be doing the kind of artwork that my professors would've applauded. (Y'know, the kind of work I have no interest in doing.) Same old funk that locked me into years of not touching a pencil after I graduated.
It was an easy slide from there to just losing confidence in my skill completely. I have so much work to do to bring my work to the next level, that ever-moving upward goal, after all. How could a burnt-out failure like me possibly push that high? I had already given up on Higher Art, I never pursued any of the things college trained me for (teaching or gallery work); what business did I have doing any of that "aspiring" crap?
But, as Red would've said, "Normal ain't nothin' but a setting on a washing machine." I like what I draw, which is really the important thing here. She liked what I draw. Other people seem to like it as well. Their opinions aren't less valid just because they don't hold a university teaching position. My interest isn't less valid just because I've been steered away from it.
Drawing has felt good again. The challenge of things I haven't drawn yet is inspiring rather than overwhelming. The stories I have in my head about my flawed little animal folks feel like they're worth telling. After all, she was always excited to hear about them and brainstorm with me. They're worth being told, the images in my head are worth being drawn. There are undoubtedly people who would find them stupid, but those aren't the people I should ever worry about pleasing.
No more somedays.
I am glad you are healing slowly and I am so so happy mourning in a way is managing to motivate you to keep going instead of sinking you. I love your art, it's full of personality, never stop please <3
The art has been helping the mourning, as well. I have another piece planned for a mutual friend of mine and Red's, and then I think I'll work on the ideas I would like to pursue. Comics. Comics pose an entirely new learning curve for me and I'm only moderately sure I have the claws to make it up there, but I can't justify not trying anymore.
And aww gosh. ;w; I'm glad you like it! Personality and emotion is pretty much the most important thing to me in art, so I'm glad it comes across on occasion. :)
I'm gonna start with little vignettes. Mini-scenes just to experiment while I get my feet wet.
As for drawing, who gives a crap what your subject matter is, just draw and improve. If you start working for anyone but yourself and your loved ones, you're doing it wrong (I'm looking at you Warhol). I guess I can make it sound easy and just day be selfish but really, be selfish. XD
I suppose art is mostly selfish, in the end. I never really grew out of the, "Mommy! Look what I drew!" feeling. The entire reason I know how to code websites was as a result of me wanting to show off my drawings as a teenager. XD
It's a strangely hard lesson to learn, doing things for yourself. But I'm doing my best.