my beloved @infamous-if mc!!

✷ all of tenderfooted’s albums are named after cowboy lingo

✷ one of the big appeals of the band is their emotive lyricism. some of their most popular songs are ones lottie wrote after seven left the band <//3 and while not overtly breakup up songs some fans have speculated on the ‘true meaning’ behind the lyrics. lottie feels so so so noramal about this i swear

✷ orion was like you are the leader and lottie has legit never taken anything so seriously in their life

✷ nevertheless a little bit of a people pleaser and sooo indecisive. having to be the deciding vote on what bus to travel on was a hellish experience.

✷ collects snowglobes and is allergic to crustaceans

✷ never seen on stage without cowboy hat and boots

how about 17 and 24? what inspires you and how do you deal with art block?

Long post warning.

Art block...

I don't actually get art block, which is probably a combination of neurodivergence and drawing every day for the last 3 years

I wrote an entire tutorial about how to do that, but didn't feel like illustrating it. Would people want to read it even without visuals?

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

There's a couple different types of art block, and it's really just a philosophy puzzle to get past them. I'm going to assume that the things I think of slow days, or art mud, is a milder form of art block and work through that.

Art block is a symptom, not a disease. You probably have something deep inside that you don't want to face, or don't know how. Sometimes you need to discover the cause, sometimes just power through.

Method 1: Rest

Let yourself just Exist. The act of consuming art is part of the process. Watching shows and playing games, taking a break and going gardening or focus on school. This is what you need for burnout-induced art block.

Method 2: Action

I always choose action, sometimes it means a tiny 2 min sketch per day. Ugly or super simplified. As long as I don't stop moving.

Toss everything. Start every piece thinking you will throw it away.

The act of drawing moves you forward; pinning it to the fridge does not. Don't work things until they are perfect. Work them until they are there.

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

Not sure what to draw, nothing seems appealing. Art won't come out like it used to.

Do studies from life or photos. Sketch, paint, digital, traditional, doesn't matter. Rocks, fruit, figure drawing, landscapes, buildings, anything.

Study and copy professional's work. Old masters are best, like rubens, michalangelo (only his men tho) etc because they will teach you anatomy while you work. If you copy someone with a lot of flaws, you will repeat those flaws.

Trace to learn, not to earn. Trace photography and art from anyone you want. Don't post it unless you have the artist's permission or they are dead, whichever comes first. This is strictly work for yourself, on yourself. It's not about the finished drawing.

Find an artist with a fun style and try converting stuff into their style. Don't make that your new style though and especially don't start selling it. Your style is a chimera of everyone you love, not a clone of one person.

Take blurry photos. You don't need a fancy camera or good skills or beautiful subjects. Doing studies from your own photos can spark life into your workflow.

Make challenges for yourself. Randomly generate things to combine. Try fusing characters! Don't try to make it look good, just be fun.

Doodle patterns, swirls, lines, random stuff. Try looking up art warmups and doing some of those.

- Everything Sucks

You finally see how bad you are. Or somehow you got worse. Every piece is a fight and you spend hours trying to get something right only for it to be stiff and disgusting and STILL wrong.

Why are you trying to draw good? It's enough just to draw.

Accept that your art is bad. Every artist can see flaws in their work. Your problem is that those flaws outweigh anything remotely worthwhile and hurt to look at.

So what? You're in a period of growth, not a period of production. Keep that wonky second eye. Let them have hot dog fingers.

Show everyone! Show no one! No piece of art can ever be a reflection of the artist. Not their worth, not their skill. The only thing your art says about you is "Held and moved a pen for a bit."

Make bad art. It's ok. Most of the time, the pressure to perform and get things Right is what made them wrong in the first place. Relax.

- No Motivation

The #1 killer of artists everywhere. On some level you think you should draw, on every other level you think you should stay in bed.

You are not lazy. You wouldn't have read this far in a post about art block if you were lazy. You wouldn't CALL it art block if you were lazy. Laziness is wishing you didn't have to do anything. A block is wishing you were doing something. If you think you can namecall Yourself into productivity again, you're wrong and You need to unionize so that you don't treat You like that anymore.

Consider Mental Illness. Losing interest in something that brought you joy can be a symptom of depression. I know it seems obvious, but if you're waiting for a sign that it's "bad enough," it's bad enough. Seek care if you have the means. Forgive yourself if you already know this.

Selfcare. Examine yourself for neglect. Nutrition, exercise, enrichment, social need, and sleep are all part of the art process. Eat three meals and sleep 8 hours. That's your gaymer fuel. You deserve it, I promise. Depriving yourself of your needs will make your blocks worse, not kick you into making them better.

Identify potholes. Sketchbook falling apart? Tablet cord frayed? Half your pencils missing? Chair uncomfortable? Desk hard to reach? There's a lot of things that you tell yourself to work around and get over. Just because you CAN workaround something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. A difficult work environment can cause secret dread deep inside that you don't recognize and just think you're lazy. What you think of as "no motivation" might actually be "I don't want to deal with my tablet disconnecting every time I move it wrong and I have to wiggle it for a few seconds to make it work again." These little things are like potholes in the road. Sure you CAN still drive through them, but eventually you're going to look up and realize you haven't voluntarily left the house in weeks.

Repair potholes and roadblocks. You might feel bad about buying a new pencil, headphones, tablet, car, etc because technically the old one works if you hustle. But if you're running into so many potholes you've ground to a halt, it doesn't Actually work anymore, does it? Invest, save up, request, and require working equipment and suitable conditions. This stuff isn't just cushy privilege, it's an investment in yourself and your art. You are worth the effort it takes to clear the way. If you can't afford reliable (reliable! not perfect or luxurious) equipment, then say it. If cardboard is all you can afford, draw on cardboard. But know that you deserve canvas, and one day you might be able to make the jump. Acknowledge that sometimes, if you don't have it in you to smear burned twigs on wet cardboard, the problem isn't motivation, but opportunity.

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

A unique type of art block that self perpetuates. The thought of starting again is so stressful you can't do it. Or maybe you'll do it tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow for sure.

Face your fears. Are you ashamed of your lack of drawing? Are you anthropomorphizing your paper and thinking it's going to judge you, like "oh NOW you come back >:/" I internalize voices I hear and project them onto other people, concepts, locations, and inanimate objects. Your paper, computer, WIPs folder.... none of that is judging you.

Reframe your WIPs. Do you feel shame when you see "unfinished" projects? Why? Who says you MUST bring everything you start to Finish? You don't have to. A sketch is a finished art piece; it's called a sketch! If a sketch is a fully realized creation, pages that are half colored, 75% lined, or partially rendered are all fully realized creations too. Unless paid otherwise, art is done when you're done working on it.

Lower the stakes. Draw a chibi or grab some crayons. Get messy and slowly ease yourself back into the flow over the course of a couple days. It's fine.

Get a buddy! Find an art meme, do an art trade, get a study subject, or just wing it. Drawing art alongside someone can help you get past that block.

Pretend you never stopped. Don't think about the gap, how long it's been, or rustiness. As far as anyone knows, you drew the mona lisa yesterday and didn't break a sweat. Today, you drew a starfish on your hand with a gel pen. Keep up that streak, good job!

Just keep drawing. Make a goal to do one sucky drawing per day on the back of a napkin. Don't make up for missed days, just pretend they didn't happen. Who's going to judge you? The calendar? That's pieces of paper; it doesn't have an opinion. Draw a cat on it. Done. Keeping up the momentum is a great way to prevent art blocks in the future.

TLDR: Draw imperfectly and toss it. Selfcare is king. Draw often and don't judge yourself.

Art is a process, not a product.

PSA: Online Safety

Ok so normally I don’t post personal stuff on here, but I saw something today that made me remember this and I knew I had to post it somewhere. 

When I was 14, I was really into digital art and online forums where people could post and discuss their paintings/drawings. As someone w/adhd and social anxiety, the internet was somewhere I felt I could be myself and be in control of my social interactions. It wasn’t as intimidating as making friends or talking to people in real life, and I built genuine social skills on there. However, I wasn’t aware of how dangerous these digital communities could be.

I had (still do) a really great relationship with my parents growing up, and they made sure to have the discussion with me about stranger danger and how you should never give away personal info online, all the classics. I never really hid anything I did on the computer from them, and they trusted me completely. They monitored our internet that was considered acceptable by most parenting standards (i.e. server blockers for adult content, etc.). But none of that mattered when I met someone on a discussion board who convinced me to meet up with them irl.

Obviously, looking back on it now years later, it was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. Even at the time, I remember being a little scared when this person asked me to meet them at a public park. They were one of my online ‘art buddies’, ppl who critiqued and gave advice for your submissions, and we’d ‘known’ each other for a while. They complimented my sketches, gave me great tips on how to draw better, and I was really inspired by all the works they posted. Then the conversations meandered naturally from our posts to our lives, casual talk like how we hated homework but liked our teachers, our siblings were annoying, etc. 

WARNING: DESCRIPTION OF GROOMING AHEAD

Then, one day they messaged me complementing my self-portrait that I had posted. It was by no means realism, more of a cartoon version of myself, but their flattering words were enough to make my introverted,14-year-old self swoon. I was so shy in school, no one even knew i was there half the time, let alone told me i was beautiful. It made me feel special, valued, less alone. Looking back now, I see it for what it was. But at the time, those words only made me trust this person more. So when they mentioned that they lived in my city and asked if I wanted to meet up at a public park, it wasn’t a huge red flag to me. It was a public place, right? It’s not like they were asking for my social or my address or anything. And they wouldn’t be picking me up in their car, the park was close enough to my school that I could bike the 4 miles there myself. We were just gonna hang out at the picnic tables for a couple of hours, no big deal. 

Even though I’d seen this park before, I’d never actually been to it. My parents never took us there, and I always just assumed it was because there were other, closer parks to our house that were just as nice. It didn’t seem sketchy to me as I rode up closer, other than the fact that some of the playground equipment was rusty and the swing set had overgrown weeds on it. 

I remember this day so clearly even though it’s been 10 years now: I was pedaling up this mini-hill that went thru a neighborhood, and the park was at the bottom of the hill on the other side. I remember stopping at the top of the hill to catch my breath for a second on the sidewalk, and I looked down at the park. From where I was standing, I could see the picnic tables and the parking lot. My friend had been messaging me on my phone, and had been updating me ever since I left school on my bike. They said they were already there and had been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes, and that when I arrived I’d be able to find them really easily because they had a red convertible in the parking lot, and they had managed to get us a table that we didn’t have to share. I texted them when I left, asking if there were a lot of people at the park that day. Their reply was really distinct, because instead of ‘yeah, kinda’ or ‘not really’, they texted back; ‘Super crowded, some kind of birthday party at the gazebo- All kinds of moms lol’ . Reading that gave me assurance that I didn’t know I needed, and that’s why I remember the dread and fear I felt when I looked down at the park.

 There was no one there.

No party, no kids, nothing- the gazebo was empty, the playground deserted, everything was just quiet. 

Except for this one man sitting at a picnic table, who had to be at least my father’s age. There was a gray sedan parked in the lot (i’m assuming his, but I don’t know), and the man was looking down at his phone as he sat at the table.

I texted my ‘friend’ again, still hidden by the garage wall of someone’s house where my bike was parked at the top of the hill. My ‘friend’ was supposed to be a guy my age who was wearing a pink floyd t shirt and black jeans. I asked him, ‘is there food at the party?’

I got an instant reply; ‘Yeah, a grillout- smells amazing but i don’t think they’ll let us have anything lol’. 

I turned around and got on my bike, looking over my shoulder every 5 minutes, terrified that this guy might have seen and followed me. Thankfully, there was never anyone behind me, and I didn’t stop until I got home. I went to my room and deleted my entire account from that website, blocking my ‘friend’ first and deleting all of our conversation history in a panic before making sure every trace of me was gone forever. I sat there in my room for a while just staring at the wall. 

I don’t know for sure if the man that I saw had anything to do with the person I was messaging- I don’t know him or why he was at the park. All of these things are connections I drew from what I knew via the website and our conversation, and what I could see with my own eyes. But more powerful than any of that was the immense, strong gut feeling I had wash over me when I was about to meet that person. Something just felt very, very wrong. I was still happy and excited to meet them, but that happiness was soured by that innate reaction of dread and foreboding that just screamed at me to go away. 

I never told my parents about this, and still haven’t to this day. I know they would blame themselves for me being lured by this person (if that was in fact what happened), and that is the last thing I want- they did everything right.

That’s my entire point in posting this: my parents did everything by the book, took the experts advice, had an open and trusting relationship with me, and monitored our internet access. But I still made this happen, I still got my way, and I’m convinced that it’s by sheer luck that I’m still here today. I got up the courage to ask them one day, about 3 years after all this, when we were driving by that park why they never took us there as kids. My parents told me that park was notorious for drug use and crime, and that there were no working security cameras anywhere nearby. 

There have been so many people in my situation who unfortunately never came home. Please please please be careful who you talk to on the internet, and be even more careful about the excuses you tell yourself to justify why it’s ok for you to be communicating with strangers. I convinced myself that this was just a fun meet up with a friend, that it was safe because it was on a public property, and that it was ok for me to go by myself. I will remember this experience for the rest of my life. 

Shake On It

This is an older original work I wrote for a writing prompt given to me on a writing discord I’m on. I really liked it!

Ironically it also pertains to the Christian mythos and such, but is in no way affiliated with Obey Me lmao 

Prompt:  traveling bible salesman, death of a family member and bouns round- a time machine.

Hope y’all like! I might add to this later on. I got a lot of fanfics and original projects I’m working on as it lol.

Down on your luck? At the end of your rope? Sister's funeral not going as planned?

We've all been there.

Perhaps I can offer you a hand? Promise it's worth it.

Thin smiles and fake condolences. It was all really one could expect under the circumstances, really. You and your sister hadn’t-well- weren’t the most well-received individuals on your family tree. But she deserved better than this, some stale flowers and a note. You had stormed from the viewing room near tears, the only two relatives who had shown looking after you. They had been less than tactful in saying that no one else was coming. Not even your parents were there. So, instead of watching over your twin’s ashes, you sat crying next to the funeral home's rusty dumpster.

How fitting.

Did no one care that familial blood had been spilt? A cold body and no leads and they just shrug it off? You sniff, lips trembling around an unlit cigarette, numb and lost as to what to do next.

“Need a light?” Reedy fingers flick out beneath your nose and pluck the stick from your slack lips.

You jerk your chin up in shock, more surprised that you hadn’t heard them approaching. “Oi!” Your eyes squint as they snap up toward the setting sun. Your uninvited visitor is perfectly shadowed by the low light. They tisk, ignoring you in favor of sniffing your cheap smoke before flicking it to the ground as if it had personally offended them.

“I swear,” they scoff, fumbling in their pockets. Their soft accent is unrecognizable to your ear. “On a day like this. You deserve better, no?” Their hand stops at their chest with a soft gasp. “Ah! Here we are, here we are!” The stranger’s silhouette produces something from an unseen pocket with a grant flourish, offering it out to you.

“A lolli?” You take it from them in a daze, twirling the bright yellow candy between your fingers. You eye them quizzically.  It seemed like an odd practice for a funeral home to do. You knew they hadn’t been at the wake. Their form was taller and lankier than the few guests or staff that had been milling about. Did they work in the back with the bodies, perhaps? Out on their 15? You eye their scuffed oxfords and old mud clinging to their khaki pants.

The stranger chuckles, an oddly deep one for their stature. “But of course! Better for you in the long run. Believe you me, lungs full of ash are quite unpleasant.” You stare blankly up at them. What? “Might I join you for a tick? You look like you could use some company.” They continue nodding their head toward the empty space beside you.

“Can’t stop you.” You sigh popping the sickly yellow lolli into your mouth. The flavor catches you off guard. Hands flying up flap uselessly at your burning cheeks. You gag, only swallowing down your initial shock. Chili and lemon? Who the hell…

“Shock to the system huh?” They laugh at your teary-eyed glare. “I find a bit of contrast clears the mind.”

“I guess.” You cough as you thump your chest hard. Wiping at your teary eyes, you get a better look at them. You were correct in your assumption that you had never seen this person till now.

They smile at you patiently, knowing exactly what you were doing. They seemed normal enough. Unkempt hair and thick glasses. Gangly knees draw close to their chest. A rumpled white button-up tent like on their frame. Sleeves pushed up to show off their knobby elbows. Their tawny skin was spattered with freckles, crossing from high cheekbone to high cheekbone. The freckles were interrupted in their smooth transition across their face by a jagged edge on the wide bridge of their nose. From a distance, the crook of their nose wouldn’t have been noticeable. But this close, you recognize the look of a break long since healed. Its off-centered placement only emphasizes their lopsided grin. Their teeth, though, are surprisingly flawless. Their canines flash predatorily off of the security lights as the sun finally sets.

“My condolences.” They cut through your musing, popping a candy in their mouth as well. “I assume you are part of the party inside?” You follow their pointed finger to the door.

“Yes.” You nod and readjust your posture, mind back on your sorrows. They hum noncommittally, finger tapping their nose deep in thought. “It’s my sister- was- my sister.” You explain. “Her landlord found her last week in her bathroom. Coroner says the wounds were self-inflicted.”

“You don’t believe it?”

“Not in a million years.” You scowl. You were gonna make it big together, if for no other reason than to thumb your noses at the family that threw you aside. Didn’t know how yet, but you thought you had all the time in the world to figure it out. “We had a plan. Leaving all our work unfinished? It isn’t like her.” They nod, letting the silence draw out between you. The cicadas filling the emptiness.

“What are you planning now?” they ask. The words tickle in your ear, temping thoughts you had long since buried. You knew what you wanted. You wanted revenge, to find and destroy whoever took her away from you. To take your family to task and prove to them that you both had been worth a damn.

“Therapy and a potted plant.” You lie easily, resting your back on the chain link fence. They laugh loudly head thrown back from the power of it. It grates at you.

“Oh, my dear~” They wipe at their eyes, chortling. “I haven’t had a laugh like that in a millennium.” They clear their throat after a bit, brushing at some imaginary dust on their arm. “No need to lie to me. Such peace is not in human nature.” You bristle, wanting to argue, but something holds your tongue. “Perhaps I might have what you seek?” They pull an old briefcase out from behind them. You gape, brows threatening to disappear into your hairline.

It all clicks, as sudden as a blown light bulb. The clothes and glasses. The aversion to smoking. The pushiness. Unbelievable. “You aren’t-no. No!” It was your turn to laugh, the sound bouncing around the back alley. “A freakin’ Bible salesman!?”   You lose it, slapping their knee while clutching your stomach and gasping in the sour air. “Oh my God! What, did you get lost on your way to a 60’s convention?”

“Yes, yes. It is quite out of vogue in these times, isn’t it? We had to take a more hands-on approach in recent years. The old lore just doesn’t hold up like it used to.” Their chuckle patting the case, thumbs popping the locks. “But I assure you my book is just what you need.” You stop laughing. A little nagging feeling in the back of your head finally starting to take over.

“Listen- with all due respect."

“Please,” they snap, their tone turning sharp and businesslike. “Lying just insults both of us here.” They hand you the case, nodding at you to open it. “Give it a look. I know you want to.” They lean close then, placing a hand on top of yours. The shadows of the overhead light elongate the digits. Candy sweet breath tickles the fine hairs on your face. “And if the book doesn’t entice you, perhaps a deal might?”

You pop the lid.

The sole occupant of the case lounges on an ornate cushion. The rich blue velvet is inlaid with silver thread and beads, the ornate geometric stitching painstakingly done by some poor sod years ago. Frankly, it looked like a lot of flash and theatrics for a rather ugly book. The leather bound cover is bereft of any discernible writing or art. Despite its apparent age, the paper within is crisp. It's bone white color contrasts harshly with the gold ink used on it.

“I can’t read this.” You look up confused by the random string of symbols and letters. The Bible salesman shrugs, picking at a cuticle.

“You sure? Try again.” Their nonchalant demeanor befuddles you.

“Yes, I’m sure. What kind of mor-'' You glance down at the book again, the leather warming in your palm despite the cool night air. The symbols are the same but it all seems so familiar to you now. Book of The Dawnstar.

“Is this a joke?” You already know the answer. The unnatural warmth and pulsing from the book bring the nerves in your stomach to a sickening curl, tipping you off. But, you don't want to say the word. Magic was a stupid fairy tale made for the big screen.

“Does it feel like a joke?” They ask, lips curling.

“What do you want?” You shut the book with a snap, placing it back in its case. You weren't liking where this was going, but were intrigued all the same.

“Well~ I thought it was self-explanatory.” They take the book back out, fingers going over the front’s cover in odd swirls and dips. Your eyes follow the trail left by their fingers. “Striking deals used to be so much easier, I swear.” They point at you, then at themselves. “I can feel the rage. It called me here. You want answers; more importantly to me, you want revenge. I can help. All you need to do is make a deal with me. You know the saying.”

“For-for real?” You can hardly believe it. This is a prank-or a fever dream. It’s the only explanation. No demon or devils, or stupid magic bullshit. Someone would find you soon, passed out from the stress back here.

“Dream or not, what would it hurt to try?”

“What would it hurt!” you laugh in disbelief. “You know in Bible school they say not to make deals with devils.”

“Pfft.” They wave off the comment. “I’m wounded! Half those fools get the language twisted anyway. Devil, Satan, and my name are not interchangeable . I’m not some low level sprite begging for souls.”

“Why come to me then?” you ask. They shrug, fingers slowing to a stop over their book. “Wouldn’t some--I don’t know--Christian soul be tastier or something?” You begin to panic. The look of exasperation you get in return stops you from losing it completely.

“Is that what they teach these days? Heh, Gabriel must be ringing his halo. But if those stupid little superstitions are whats stopping you from what we both know you desire, let me rectify that.” They rise to their feet, far more elegantly then their appearance would lead you to believe was possible. A haze covers them, the shadows around you seemingly clinging to their body as they turn. “A formal introduction then. Dawnstar, Lucifer. The light bringer, rebel, and protector of those under my eyes.” They bow, baggy clothes replaced with elegant robes of navy. All gangly awkwardness gone in the wake of sheer power. “And you are exactly the entertainment I’m looking for.”

“Entertainment?” You sputter, sinking back as far as you can into the fence behind you. You were sure if you should be insulted or not by the notion. “So you don’t want my soul?”  

Lucifer rolls two of their many eyes. “I have bigger, quite frankly purer souls, for that. But they are all rather boring to follow around till they croak. Besides, despite what sweet old pastor Dale says, I am empathetic--to a certain degree. You are right in your assumption that your twin did not take her own life. So I’m offering you a chance to meddle.”

You ponder over the words, mind racing as your spirit soars. This was impossible. “So I can-- what, like wish her back? A soul for a soul?” You rise to your feet, knees shaking as the heavy gaze of the fallen angel bares into you.

“Ugh. Figured you’d say something like that,” Lucifer groans, rolling their neck. “And the answer is no.”

“What? Why!” you snap, heart seizing. You jab a finger at their chest. The cold radiating off of them stops you from getting any closer. “You said you would help!”

They step back, smirking as you rub at your frostbitten finger. “Live and learn, I guess?” Lucifer turns, looking up into the bug-infested sky. “You humans always try that martyr shtick. ‘Oh, trade me for them, please!’. Turns into a never ending headache I’m contractually obligated to help with. Plus, it’s rather boring.”

You sputter. “Excuse me?” Lucifer looks at you, blinking coyly.

“When you’ve been around as long as I have, such clichés get grating every couple of centuries. You, my girl, just have the misfortune of being in one of those centuries. Try something more creative. Make me work for it.”

“Seriously?” You throw your hands up exasperatedly.

“As serious as your great aunt's coming heart attack.” They reply deadpan.

“Fine!” You purse your lips, not evening wanting to think about that last statement. “Help me prevent it.” You fume, all the little thoughts and wishes since the day you got the call boiling over. “I wanna look that fucker in the eyes before they can get to her. I want them to pay for even thinking they could take her from me!”

Lucifer grins, cold dead eyes warming over like coals on an open flame. “Oh yes, now that I will do. Time distortion is such a pain to undo. By the time they catch on, Michael will be up to their necks in timelines to untangle to get to you.” They unfurl a long clawed hand from beneath their robes. You see a symbol glowing, hot and white, on the skeletal palm. “Is that what you truly want?”

“Yes.” You nod, your throat clicking dryly as you approach them again. You hand inches from theirs before stopping. “Can you do that?”

Their smile is all teeth. “With ease. I look forward to watching the mess you make.”

It is 2021 and I find myself compelled to pick up a pen once again. COVID-19, the catastrophic pandemic that even claimed lives of loved ones of mine and threatened those in my heart; but while Covid-19 set the world on fire & put it on pause I saw the opportunity to run forward. No more of the suffocating hustle & bustle of spreading myself thinner than air. No more weights hanging around my neck. I had gained a dark Christmas gift request at the expense of Djinn wishing. I was gifted the time to focus on me. I admit during the sudden change of a city shutdown & legal curfew only affected me for very little things; but not by much. I wear a mask prior to the pandemic due to my asthma. People no longer stood physically close to my personal space. The city streets were empty from the fear. It was silent. Anyone who genuinely knows me on a cellular and soulful level know in their heart, how much I truly value silence.

It was interesting to watch the world around me not spin. I did beauty regiments that I used to rush. I trained in wooded parks to perfect my martial arts. I baked in the sun off grid like just to feel it’s warmth. Most of my social interactions are limited or filled with false intentions, so when the city shutdown the same individuals who weren’t genuine acted no differently; if not truly flash their authentic fakery. In a national “shutdown”, it is not difficult for someone such as myself to remove people completely or simply put them on the outskirts of my circle.

As the year progressed I truly disconnected digitally, virtually, socially except for 5 people to be exact. I felt clean, energetic, happier & lighter. I tried to make some posts to show people I’m not dead but that was a rarity. I explored the lands, began to bask in my books again, find new methods of fighting, meditation, draw, throw burdening, heartbreaking, tribulation trophies away. I painted. I created spa days for self care. I worked on my pet’s health whose lost weight. I began to write again.

I even began to return to music but the person who I turned to went into a meaningless tirade of how untalented I was & how they could mold me into an artist. I veered away from it because I told them I couldn’t sing anymore because of my asthma; one needs air to talk let alone sing. I also told them I was extremely rusty to making music; well into 20 years. They pursued the music with me but they only held an interest in making me become what they wanted; & I’m resilient to those changes from others. Once they had their tirade, they presented themselves as this narcissistic savior but I have never seen them as such. Truth is I don’t value other peoples opinions; I respect it but not value. This so called friend often made manipulative remarks at random with their friends & myself; but I’m not obligated to bother like I did before. Although, I do wish them success & happiness; I placed them on the outskirts of my circle. Maybe one day I’ll return to music, but not with them. However, I am enjoying music more since Covid.

I lost like others did but there was something different in the air beside the Covid droplets; but I awoke & began to run. For many years, the weight of many things slowed me down. Basic human necessities are heavier on the soul when you struggle to provide it. I would often agonize to my best friend about feeling dead, asleep and disconnected. My disconnected nature were with my peers, the world but I was always connected to the universe; & when the world froze I felt awakened.

I joined a wine company that I hold great pride in because their wine gives back to charities.

I unveiled my soul writing in my physical journal. I wish I could say I feel “new” or “improved”; but I feel awake again. There are fragments of times that I would “wake up” to tend to important needs or situations. I haven’t felt awake in a long time & not as a temporary solution to meaningful & meaningless problems. I still struggle with my depression but not the same way.

Being awake includes all of the activities I adore that I began to do again. I’m considering publishing again. I feel my creativity returning. I feel me returning.

I watched the world burn from it’s frustrations. I can hear the world screaming like a banshee as I have for many years. I’ve watched people put on my shoes while I slipped them off.

I am not completely free of my tribulations but damn do I feel lighter.

Do you have certain materials you prefer? Like a certain type of paper, pens, etc.?

If you’re practicing, use the cheap crap! Use printer paper and ballpoint pens and RoseArt and Reeves! Always practice with the cheap stuff and save the good quality materials for when you know what you’re doing. For stuff I prefer for myself now... Paper. When working in sketchbooks I really like Canson Mix Media. It has some tooth to it and I really like that. I also work a lot with markers and it holds up to them really well. I have Strathmore Mixed Media books, too, but they’re really smooth and I’m not very fond of that. Seems like it would be better for blending, but I always feel like the pencil or ink is going to smear or feather. For comic book paper I really like Canson as well. Doesn’t bleed, doesn’t feather, I just wish it had some more layout markers. (Though I can just do that with a ruler.) Pencils! Been using Prismacolor Col-Erase for a long while now, usually in Light Blue and Carmine Red. Please note that Carmine Red doesn’t erase well and is kinda a pain in the butt. I used to draw in Non-Photo Blue, but it was too light when I was inking and I’d have a hard time seeing my sketch and scanners would still pick it up. If I’m doing warm-ups, thumbnails, or just sketches I’ll use anything. Normal pencils, ball-point pens. Anything. Pens. For inking I usually go for Sakura Micron. Comes in a bunch of sizes and I go through them like candy. They can handle a decent amount of work, have pretty durable nibs as long as you’re not stabbing the paper. I also like their brush pens for filling in. I used to use Copics as well for inking, but they were too expensive to upkeep and I  didn’t really like how they felt. (I had the metal ones that you could refill. Heavy pens.) I also used to use Stabilo and I kinda hated them. Did my first comic with them and it looks like shit. Feels like holding a pencil, though. I might try them again now that I know how to use pens better, but for now I’ll stick with Sakura. Oh! I also use Sakura Gelly Roll for white ink, but I’m not super fond of it. I just need it for fixing mistakes. I’ll look for a better white ink pen later. Markers! If you wanna get into markers, use Ohuhu. They’re cheap, they dry out in a year, and they come in a ton of colors. Good to practice with. Right now I use Copic Sketch and I like them a lot. I have some that have dried out too soon, so I might try to revive them again, but overall I like them. They blend nicely, they don’t usually feather or bleed too bad, they come in a verity of colors. I like them. I’ve also used Faber-Castell, they’re okay. I’m not really fond of them. They never seem to dry out which is nice. Don’t blend very well, but that may just be me. Sharpie I hate. Never got the hang of them. Hate the smell, hate the colors, I don’t like Sharpie. I know other people that can make them work, though, so that’s definitely me. Other art stuff! I use Mod Podge to glue things, usually paper to whatever I messed up on so I can re-draw it. Bad idea. don’t use Mod Podge to glue things. Coloring over it will also make it look weird. Get a quark-back metal ruler. Keeps the ruler from slipping around. I have a cheap glove-thing I got for free when I bought a tablet to cover my hand and keep me from smearing stuff. I used to have a SmudgeGuard brand one, but the elastic gave out on it and for some reason the woman who ran the store didn’t believe I had small hands so she sent me the wrong size with a letter that an adult can’t have hands that size. I may try to sew my own one day. But it does keep the pencil and whatnot from getting messy.  Computer stuff?? For taking photos and posting them to Insta, I use SnapSeed for fixing contrast and white-balance issues and LINE Camera for editing out stuff like eraser dust or little things like that. For digital art I use Photoshop CS6 and a really out-of-date version of GIMP. Like, so old. Super old. I don’t actually have a scanner and haven’t for a long time now, so I can’t really do any digital art. I’d like to get back into it, but I’m also VERY rusty. I never draw digitally and I should really try to get better at that. I want to try out Clip Studio Paint, but that’s a bit expensive for something I don’t know if I’ll like so maybe I’ll use their free trial. Drawing tablets I’ve used have been a Wacom Graphire3. From 2004. It was a good little tablet until it died. I have a little Wacom Intuos. It has a giant scratch on the surface, but it works fine. If I do any digital art, I usually do it with that. I also have a Huion Kamvas GT156HD. I hate it. It worked properly once and never again. The wires are a pain in the ass, setting it up is even MORE of a pain in the ass. It’s constantly running in the background for no reason, the pens can’t hold a charge, and it freaks out if you have drivers for other tablets installed. No matter how many times I uninstall and reinstall drivers it never works right. It’s a pain to change pen settings, I just hate it. Haven’t used it for two years or so, it was a huge waste of money.

I know that sometimes it is better to let your praise stand alone but I can't help but respond again. Because it is not just that piece I mentioned. You always produce such detailed artworks (even for free which is mind-blowing and making me wish I had enough money to pay you.). You invest so much time and love and it shows, each piece seeming to have a soul of it's own. May I ask how long you already draw? I would love to know about the road you've taken so far while pursuing your passion :)

you will literally make me cry you’re so so kind i don’t know how to thank you enough T__T feel free to come around and ask me anything, my heart is yours

story time, Ira’s art journey (it got way longer than I expected and I also got sappy lol, I’m sorry)

like any other kid I started to draw when I was little. I used to spend a lot of time in hospitals as a child so coloring books where how I was spending my time. after that I continued to draw just for myself, ugly drawings that back then were full of thoughts that I was proud of haha. besides that I was always drawing on something, notebooks, napkins, my hands, tables. even now I draw floating eyes and random hair shapes on my notebooks lol

I continued to draw by pausing different anime scenes on TV and drawing them on paper, trying to reproduce it as accurate as I could only by studying the paused episode. looking back I realize I was doing art exercises without even knowing what I was actually doing, back then I was just drawing what I was admiring (I remember even now the anime Slayers, I drew Lina one night and then I wrote down every one of her spells that I was remembering)

I was never the best at traditional art, I’m pretty clumsy, smudging everything or painting everywhere that shouldn’t have paint on it. watercolors hated me (literally, once I had a watercolor tube explode in my face when I tried to open it)

I started digital…12 years ago I think? I started in paint and for good years I mastered that. my first ever digital art was an anime schoolgirl I reproduced from the cover of one of my notebooks. I drew that in paint and I remember it took me several days to finish. and then after a while I discovered Paint Tool Sai

I kept drawing for myself and for my friends for the longest time, mostly my OCs and my own stories. after a while, with school getting stressful and losing motivation because I had the mindset that art is just a hobby and it won’t get me anywhere, because society and family and etc told me that, I stopped. for 3-4 years I haven’t touched anything art related (I used to draw with a mouse back then)

then, I got into mystic messenger where I met people outside of my group of friends. I started to want to draw again for that fandom and even if my skills were really rusty I was enjoying it. I started to post art online two years ago under the name of Cheebs. for a while everything went fine. I was drawing and a friend that I considered very close to me was doing the backgrounds, we called them collaboARTs. but when I started to feel art was more like a chore than a passion plus some other details that I won’t go into now (regarding the friendship between me and this person) I realized it was toxic for me. things went south, we “broke up” and that was the moment I decided to never leave my arts with a white background anymore. even the simplest backgrounds are fine, but no more lazy

around…August/September I think, 2018, I got my first tablet. man the difference between a mouse and a tablet is HUGE. I felt like I was rediscovering drawing all together

wanting more of my art I started to watch speedpaintings on youtube, to search for different ways to do backgrounds, how to make the composition in order to enhance your art and not to make it heavy, color theories, etc. I started working on my technical side, I always drew just how I felt like it looked good (I never got art classes, only in elementary school which were more to play around than to learn art)

my art improved in the last year while I realized I was drawing for myself and that it never should become a chore, more than the entire time before that. I worked on my fears of “what if” (what if won’t come out good, what if they won’t like it, what if someone will find this trash) and that helped me more than anything. I improved in anatomy, perspective, colors, backgrounds because I wasn’t afraid of failure anymore and I pushed myself to go out of the comfort zone. it really helped

now my next step is to make my art a bit more…lively. I love when I hear people saying that they are feeling things when seeing my art or my writing, cause that’s what I’m aiming for. but I feel like I don’t have the dynamic I want, I feel some of my pieces are…stiff. I want more fluidity in my art so lately I’m trying to draw in a different way, to use more lines of actions

and now because you mentioned the free art part, I’m going to be a bit honest: giving free stuff (art, writing, edits, readings, any free content) it’s always going to be tricky. there are going to be people who demand, who are pushy, who want things their way. I opened requests a while back because I wanted to get better and to draw more, and I don’t regret that, but it was hella stressful and it burned me out in half a year because I didn’t know when to tell them to stop. I was making full illustrations daily. then after I stepped up for myself and changed the rules I felt much more better and now I can do up to 6 requests per day. of course, not top quality, but that doesn’t mean I don’t put love in them. love, and time and thoughts

there are wonderful people coming into my inbox almost daily and I love to draw for all of them for free, but there are always people making you question your choice of doing it in your free time. this is why I always fire up when I see people being mean towards learning artists. no one just knows how to draw, not even pro artists. who says “do it” never ever tried to do it themselves

I like to say that creativity is a muscle, if you don’t train it and challenge it it won’t evolve. but the pace of doing that it’s different from an artist to another. who cares if a young artist doesn’t know how to draw latino characters but still wants to draw that certain person cause they like them? let them try, let them fail, let them learn

ahh this got off track but I got a bit sad and angry today because of this topic and some discourse, I guess I just had to let it out. I saw people bloom when they got a bit of support to start drawing, after years of putting it off because teachers or family told them they have no talent. they only needed a bit of push and while they aren’t Picasso they are drawing, it looks great and they are using their creativity. they are enjoying it. that’s all that matters

it’s late and idk why I’m sappy but I really hope people would start appreciating creativity more and would let people enjoy and discover the world without any labels or judgements or unnecessary drama. I’m so sorry if I bore you, thank you for your kind words and I’ll stop here before I’ll write a goddamn novel hahaha

much love to you anony, you’re truly an angel 🧡

Evangeline Soucy | Section 1 | Homework 1: Tumblr + Bio

1) Who are you?

It has been a while since I did any digital art on my iPad, so I’m a bit rusty. It was fun to draw anyway! I drew my self-portrait with little chalk doodles in the background to describe what I like and what I’m interested in.

2) Where are you from?

I’m originally from Portland, but I have lived in Augusta since I graduated high school. (The picture is of Augusta)

3) What art do you like to make?

I do really enjoy various ways of making digital art. This is a portrait I made in Adobe Illustrator for NMD 104 (New Media Design). I’d love to do more things like this. I also really like working with clay, but I haven’t had many chances to work with it recently. I am also interested in exploring other areas in art such as painting and collage.

4) What other artists inspire you?

I recently got a tarot deck called the Mystical Manga Tarot, and the artwork is absolutely beautiful. I could spend so much time staring at them. I love how the artist, known as Rann, incorporates so many details and colors into the drawings. There’s so much life in their artwork. I always feel like there are so many artists whose work speaks to me, but I always go blank when I’m asked about it. So I’m sure there are others I could name that inspire and influence me, but this is the most recent example I can think of.

Link to Rann’s work: https://www.deviantart.com/rann-poisoncage

Questions:

- What’s your favorite part of your creative process?

I really love the whole thing. I think it’s really rewarding to start making something and get immersed in it, and then to see it at the end and remind myself that I made that. I think making art in general is a great way to practice mindfulness, and to slow down and really observe things. I tend to live in the present and sometimes find it challenging to plan ahead or think into the future, so staying present in my creative process just feels really natural to me.

- How do you challenge yourself in your work and process?

I think the main way I challenge myself in my work and process is to just let it all be what it is and let go of perfectionism. I feel like there’s been many times in my life where perfectionism has held me back from completing things or starting things I really want to do. Accepting my mistakes and detaching myself from the outcome is still difficult sometimes, but I feel like that’s helped me grow a lot as an artist. I also feel like it’s helped me view my work more objectively. I might think something along the lines of, “maybe this area doesn’t look quite right, or maybe I could’ve done this part better, but I did do very well in this area.” I’m able to gain a lot more when I can also recognize what I did well and why it works good.

I’ve Noticed A Thing

Recently - but seeing as I've only been active within this community (ask/rp blogs) for a while comparative to others, at times I feel as though I don’t have some sort of authority to speak about it.

Then I realized, after a second, I don’t care and I’m going to speak my mind.

And let’s get down to it; to the talk - THE talk about OC vs Canon, popularity, activity and your feelings!

Hi, I’m Kav and this is my own OC blog - with about 200 followers (as of right now, writing this) and have had this blog for about 2 months and a few days. Apparently that is a feat in this community, but I think I should point out that it’s possibility due to my activity, my art and also the guest that’s currently been hanging out with them.

And I need to point out something right now but don’t be offended/hurt. etc; it’s just an obvious thing.

Canon blogs will get the better treatment because they're established characters in this world AND have that spotlight that original content creators don't have.

But that shouldn't diminish one's determination to keep at it. People are not going to hand serve you the attention you think you rightfully deserve Because you think so well of yourself, which I'm not saying it's a bad thing but still.

Don't let that bruise your ego or your spirit. (Because god, if that does it - then you’ll just be meeting people along the way who’ll do a lot worse and say worse.)

Anyways let that sink in a little and now, what do you do as an original content creator or an OC ask blog?

There’s not much to say besides don’t give up! Don’t lose all of your hope because seriously, it’s well established that no one really wants to deal with a person who gives up hope and complains or is negative on a constant basis. (*Looks at self*)

Like myself, you need to work on that - that part of yourself that needs to start looking more of positives and other options, instead of being down or thinking negatively. People can sense it and they’ll start leaving. 

Oh, you can say, ‘I didn’t need them anyhow’ or ‘I’ll find better fans or followers than those’ but really, stop making that excuse for yourself to feel better.

You lost them because of that sort of thinking.

Do better! Be better, not only for others but for yourself! As a content creator and someone who wants to have more interaction with others about your content! Don’t dismiss everyone because you feel like you are not good enough or you’re too proud or possibly anxious/shy. (I sound like I’m preaching to myself at this point...)

Also another elephant in the room; Art-based Ask/RP blogs vs Written-Only Ask/RP blogs

I hate to talk about this but let’s just be real; ask blogs - and ones where there’s constant activity and art alongside it, will always have more popularity.

Words are so beautiful, and strung along together - they can be amazing and well thought out ideas, stories and much more but... As they say, pictures write a thousand words.

It’s true and I feel bad for admitting that, as an ask blog - I’m not going to feel the same feeling as an RP blog because I don’t have the same frustration you have. I love your words and the image you can provide with them but it’s not for everyone.

It’s kind of tragic because so far, what I have seen and read - or at least skimmed through, the majority of those I follow are pretty great and incredible!

Please, don’t give up hope though - you’ve met some pretty cool friends and people who love you, either up front or afar! (Like me! And I love you, your portrayals and your blog in general)

Major vs minor characters and attractiveness

Not gonna lie; characters who are mains and have a huge role within a series will get more love and more attention - Also will get bashed too, for not having the right portrayal or the same headcanons as another. Keep doing whatever you wish, you’re good by the way.

But minor characters, that is somewhat tough - they needed to have a following, a fan base but they also can start attracting attention by being constantly active, possibly in character for most or some or just giving MORE to the character in question.

I’ve seen it happens and it’s pretty great! Some feel as though the captured the character even though there is so little information of them as it is. You’re amazing and are doing god or at least the level of the author’s work if they worked more on the character.

Not gonna lie either; physically attractive characters will always just get the glory and the good(?) asks - It’s just how the world works but please know, don’t let that put you down (or go make an ask blog for a possibly popular character for being attractive unless your heart is into it or else you’ll lose passion quickly for your own blog and really hurt others in the process because they always want more!)

Art styles and skills

I don’t really need to go on; people are attracted to dynamic and possibly (what they believe) is art styles that they are attracted, aesthetically, to or want to see more or.

It’s shallow and not at the same time - artists grow from learning from one another and wanting to achieve the same skills or skill level as those they place above them.

Don’t let that bring you down, keep practicing though. Keep drawing. Don’t stop either or lose hope, just keep at it. You’ll get where you wanna be! Practice and practice some more, look to tutorials, different brushes/pens/tools and whatever resources you can get over the internet to help you. 

Art is a skill you yourself have to hone and keep at - as Arin Hanson says from Game Grumps, “Do you think I came out the pussy drawing Mozart?”

I know this post is just a whole mess; but I haven’t really done this in a while - I’m pretty rusty and can’t really be sure to keep this post about the point as much. I apologize for so.

And now I need to ask you, why do you do this?

I’m not trying to be or act as though I’m an authority of what you should feel or think or a judgment of your thought process, etc etc - I’m just here, trying to level with y’all. WHY DO YOU DO THIS?

Seriously, you need to ask yourself this.

I’ll give you my reason for doing this, for having an OC ask blog - my thoughts and what goes through it.

I do and continue to do this because I have always wanted to do this for the past couple of years but the problem was also me and what I was thinking, you see - I wasn’t at the skill level I wanted to be at, the last couple of years,  to start portraying and putting out my own (very self-indulgent) self insert in this world.

And when the time came and I understood what my character was about, what were their goals, their intent and I was sure how to go about them - and that my art style was good enough for me to show them off in.

I made this blog though I’m still new to this and I’m still unsure which version I want to keep Kav as too - but I’m still happy with it, so far.

I get frustrated too because at times, I can’t still properly give details to what goes on in my head - it’s always been a struggle to put thought and ideas down into art, whether digitally or paper. Written or drawn.

But I’m going to continue this, whether I have 1 follower to over a 100+ followers. I’m not going to change either because I’m comfortable at this pace, at this level and what I’m putting out as it is - whether sfw or not.

I’ve grown to know that, I’m not for everyone and I need to keep reminding myself of this - a lot more than I let on. Granted, my need for validation and attention really puts me in the wringer but- *slaps self* - I need to keep trying and be active and keep going because if I stop now, I won’t forgive myself.

Kav, my character, as fictional as they are - won’t let me forgive myself for giving up when I know people out there, before this blog and letting people get to me, that they love her. Maybe more than I do, maybe not as much but they still love/like and appreciate her for existing!

She provides people with a sense of... strength; she gives people the drive and determination to put out their own content, whether OCs or self-inserts and for that. God I’m going to keep this up.

You should too.

But for whatever sakes you believe in, don’t give up! Don’t give in to that fucking bullshit that you are not good enough for all these people! Because if you think you deserve a bit of, what, attention or some other reason! Then keep doing this, keep being active, keep putting out more content, whether drawn or written out there because someone else, someone out there will love you and your character!

Doing nothing but feeling sorry for yourself or some bullshit isn’t going to do just that.

Though this is from my opinion and my standpoint but if you create a blog, more specifically an ask or RP blog hoping for popularity and followers - Well, I’m sorry to say but doing this for something like that won’t turn out to what you hoped.

And you’ll either grow tired or dislike for the whole thing and seeing that; isn’t always fun for everyone else when you decide dropping the character because you lost the passion or muse on account of not enough attention and the like.

If you’re in this, be really into your role - But also don’t let it consume you as well, update about things you feel important and be more open to your fanbase if you have any to your thoughts. It’s just easier.

Anyways I’m done, thank you all for taking the time to read this. Stay cool.

EXPIRATION DATES

I’ve been on the road for the last 4 weeks; perhaps even longer, exact dates fail  me. Don’t misunderstand me; I’m not complaining one bit. I absolutely love what  I do and am extremely blessed and grateful for the career I’ve built for myself  BUT at times, the pace of it all can be grueling and a lot of wear and tear on the  body and I ain’t no spring chicken though you could never tell by looking at me  (nothing’s cracked yet and everything’s sitting pretty high and tight, still, Thank  you Jehovah & Maxine). With a schedule like mine, one might wonder how or  even if I find time to cultivate any interest and passions outside of work. Well, let  me just say that If I didn’t I’d probably have lost my sanity years ago! To that  point and what brings us to this monthly digital rendezvous is my well documented love for literature and film - words and pictures, books and movies.

During those few and far between moments of leisure, when I’m not stuffing my  face (nickname, Gordita), twirling around someone’s dance studio channeling  my inner choreographer ambitions or torturing my piano teacher’s ear drums  while firming up my rusty chopsticks skills, I’m in a classroom (real and online)  polishing my pen game and mastering the art of screenwriting. And such at the  core of what began looming over my head as I wait, impatiently in the delta sky  lounge at Miami International airport, one Friday afternoon in early October  having just missed my flight and hoping to get on standby so that I don’t miss  my little sister Marzy and her soon to be husband Simon’s nuptials later that  evening (this will be my 5th flight that month thus far), is my incomplete  assignment, homework so to speak that’s due the minute I return to LA mid  month. I haven’t even begun to conceptualize an idea, muchless draft one. The  assignment, write a farewell letter/ monologue dedicated to an unrequited that  would serve as the narrative or plot line to a movie. Wow. Great. Ok. Sure.

Quite the predicament, I tell you because this could get too real if I allow myself  to go there. Where do I draw inspiration from, personal experiences, friends  experiences, do I let my mind wander and see where my imagination takes me?  Who knows, all I know is that for days, weeks, I came up with nothing, nada,  zilch, blocked. I had no idea how difficult this task would prove for me. With a  few days left in the month, I returned to my home in LA, late one Saturday  evening, hungry as all hell but ready to whip up a quick flick a’ da’ wrist and get  to work. Instead I was greeted by rotting / expired food hibernating in my fridge  for the last 30 days, pretty freakin’ gross. So much for cooking anything, tacos  will have to suffice. I’ll digress for a quick second to say that Abuelita Pepe  (made up name because I don’t think there actually is one) who sets up shop  each day at 7pm sharp on the corner of Lankersham and Victory Blvd makes

some of the most delicious tacos you’ve ever eaten in your ENTIRE LIFE! And  they’re $1 each!!!! I buy 7 and 1 horchata and head home to devour them slowly  while drafting my letter.

Back home, belly full and satisfied, my gaze is stuck between the blank  computer screen in front of me and the expired food on my kitchen counter  waiting to be thrown out. And then I get to thinking about expiration dates and  the full spectrum of that concept. At some point all things expire. Life expires  and ideals expire. On a larger scale hopefully in due time, prejudices and  preconceived notions will too expire. Take for instance the idea of assumption,  which is one of my least favorite words. Consciously or not, warranted or  biased, we all at times make assumptions. Take myself for example, someone  can make their own assumptions or draw conclusions based on the fact that I’m  a woman. Add on the fact that I’m black. Now apply my Jamaican heritage  mixed with being born in a city like New York and raised in a place like The  Bronx, one could make draw all sorts of conclusions as to who they think I am  based on these truisms alone without considering anything else I may have  done, experienced or achieved in my lifetime seemingly foreign from an imposed  assumption or birthright. Now think of how different a world we could live in if  the idea of basic assumptions expired.

Now let’s center this idea on the task at hand directly in front of me. I purchased  the food with the intention of creating delicious meals made always, with love. My produce waited patiently for me to “get around to” preparing it but I just didn’t  have the time or perhaps I forgot about it and then I had to go away, for a long  while. When I finally returned or came back to it, they’d died. It expired. Funny,  unrequited love, unspoken love and/or under-appreciated love could meet the  same fateful end, as did my Persian cucumbers. And then, like the floodgates,  the words began to pour out of me and onto the paper. I imagined how heavy  her heart could feel or frustrated and upset accepting the decision to finally let  go and walk away. Or how defeated he would feel after secretly loving a woman  for years and seeing her marry another. I thought about Duckie & Andie, Carrie & Big, Katie & Hubble, Harry & Sally, Allie & Noah, Darius & Nina. I thought about..

And here’s my letter, film untitled.

Goodbye ___

This is the end of the road for me, Mr. ____

This is the stop on this X year train ride I’ve been on, where I get off. This is when I disappear from you. When I turn my attention elsewhere, forward. You are none of the things I professed you to be in my heart. Soul mates, twin  flames, matched spirits. No we aren’t. You were a season, if that. A longer blip  in time.

This isn’t your fault entirely. I allowed myself to believe in a delusion, for what  feels like decades. You touched my soul in a way no one I’ve ever known so far  has. But it wasn’t provenance. It was a moment. And I’ve allowed this ridiculous  idea to permeate within me for entirely too long. You are not the regal one, the  royal one I thought you to be. You’re just a guy. Another bullet. No different from  all the others. The ones who always get what they want with zero consideration  for the impact it could have on someone else.

But I do blame you because, well, intentions. I know what mine were; friendship  was precious enough for me. More than sufficient. But you had other plans.  Your plan was to woo me, capture me, use me, and have your way with me then  toss me to the side. I’m here to tell you, you’ve succeeded in that plan. I’ve done  my best to live life separately all the while quelling my feelings for you but I’ve  given you entirely too much stock. Too much consideration. Too much fucking  attention! And what for?! What makes you so Goddamn special? (Clearly, that’s a stupid question because obviously I thought you were which is why I stuck around for so long.) Unbeknownst to you, I’ve allowed you to set up permanent residence in  my heart. The master suite. My commitment to you was unwavering no matter  how many times my faith had been tested.

From afar, I’ve watched you love other women and I’ve watched you ignore my  very existence. On several occasions I’ve wondered whether or not you’d care if  I died. Like even giving it a second thought. If sickness suddenly struck me or if I  was killed in an accident, could you conjure up a memory even though there  were so few? I’d always hoped the answer would be that in the moment, you’d  drop to your knees in agony over time wasted and what would never be.  Somewhere deep inside despite my hopes, I’d always known the answer…it  wouldn’t matter to you. Why would you mourn the loss of a stranger…

I’m here to tell you or tell myself, as I sit on this park bench, sun shining down  on my face, wind blowing thru my hair, that today, on this __ day of __ I release  this. I walk away from this. I turn my back on this and I am done. You no longer have  my attention. You no longer have residence in my heart. For me this chapter is  closed. I dreamt of baby whales 2 nights before I arrived here. At first I wasn’t  sure if they were seals, sea lions, or whales but now I’m certain they were  whales emerging from a tidal wave. That was the sign the universe sent me. It’s  time to move on. And I’m going to do just that. It all sounds so silly now as if  there was anything to move on from. I’m clearing the space for my true love.  Opening myself to what’s ordained. There is a man walking this earth who was  made for me. Who The Gods have intended for me. This man is not you.

You may have never known this because I’m the great pretender but you’ve had  me twisted out for a very long time. But twisted I am no more. You don’t  deserve a love like mine. You don’t deserve a partner like me. You do not  deserve Me. Maybe you aren’t worthy of the love I have to give and wanted to  give to only you. Well fret not I’m gone. You can breathe easy and rest assured

that the energy that’s been hovering over you for the past __ years is now gone.  You will no longer feel my energy, if you ever did. No longer feel my vibration.  From this moment, I will speak of you no more. I’ll seek you no more and I will  do my best every day to no longer think of you so that one day, sooner than  later, I will no longer love you.

Crazy, but today, right at this moment, I feel something toward you that I’ve  never felt before, nothing. The heart tether is not as strong as it once was. Gas  tank is empty. Perhaps after enough rejection you end up feeling this way.  Whatever the reason, this feeling- the feeling of resolve, acceptance, and finality  is nothing new to me. It’s just new because for the first time it applies to you. I  will admit, it took a ridiculously long time for me to get here and God knows I’d  hoped to never be at this place with you but as the saying goes, ‘Life Is What Happens When You’re Busy Making Other Plans’, I find myself in this foreign yet  familiar place. Finished. Complete.

Goodbye ___ ___ ___. Sayonara, adios, au revoir, etc.

Peace the fuck out!

Rest In Peace to the union we could’ve had. The life we could’ve built. The  family we could’ve created. You’ve chosen, made your decisions and framed  your life accordingly. It never included me. You are free. Rest assured knowing  that I will never reach for you again. Winter’s coming and I am ice cold.

I scored very high on my assignment. My instructor was quite pleased :-) - APIMM

Playlist for this entry from my schizophrenic iPod

“Violet” –Hole “Winter Warz” – Ghostface Killah feat. Cappadonna & U-God “Cherchez la Ghost” –Ghostface Killah “Walking Through Darkness” –Ghostface Killah feat. Takitha “One Thing” -Amerie “Pothole” -Tyler The Creator feat. Jaden Smith “The Learning (Burn)” -Mobb Deep feat. Vita & Big Noyd “Oceans” – Jay Z feat. Frank Ocean “No Church In The Wild” -The Throne feat. Frank Ocean “Otis” – The Throne feat. Otis Redding “The Story of O.J.” –Jay Z “I Want You” -Marvin Gaye “Mon Nom” – Rodrigo Amarante “Periodico de Ayer” – Hector Lavoe “I Put A Spell On You” – Alice Smith “Bury” -The Dream “The Beautiful Ones” – Prince & The Revolution “The Beautiful Ones” –Mariah Carey feat. Dru Hill “Beautiful Ones” –Mary J. Blige "Somebody That I Used To Know" -Gotye feat. Kimbra “Unison” –Bjork “Wicked Game” –Chris Issak “Wonderful Tonight” – Eric Clapton “Burning Down The House” -Talking Heads “Land of Confusion” -Genesis