lots of stuff going on rn. remembered im allowed to use this thing as a blog like. a bit of vulnerability wont kill me lol
my health has been pretty cruddy lately. after quitting sbux i was no longer actively deteriorating from having to mask all the time, but ive been really fatigued+depressed and ive struggled a lot with trying to fix the eating habits that job gave me. recently ive been getting migraines, something which i had not had issue with for years
its all kind of snuck up on me, i guess. its all felt pretty normal. its kinda scary how the onset of this stuff can be slow enough that you dont really notice that your life has come to encompass your house, or on worse days just your room, your bed. the days bleed together and you lose track
i was gonna type 'i didnt notice the loss of functioning capacity bc im pretty used to disappointing myself' which sounds. Real Bad, not gonna lie! it really doesnt feel so dire as that. im a lot slower to accomplish things but i still have ppl caring for me, which im really glad for. i have many joys even if they are small. i get to talk to my loves every day, and think about stories, and exchange songs. were making progress on getting crow proper healthcare. its gonna be okay, its just pretty hard right now
12 notes
·
View notes
You know, I think there's something so, so insidious to the idea that Orym's perspective of the Vanguard is "flawed/human" or that him repeatedly reminding his friends what the Vanguard does (kill innocents to achieve their means) "blocks nuance" in the conversation, etc, because it implies that, in this mythical "objective" perspective that apparently exists, the Vanguard aren't so bad. If only Orym could put aside his petty grievances, such as the murder of his father and husband, and let people be nuanced about this situation, he'd see there's two sides to this story. And why discount the Vanguard's perspective just because *checks notes* they're a massive, manipulative cult that preys on vulnerable people to join their ranks and turns them to violence, or that they work with a centuries-old fascist eugenicist literally mind-controlling psychic government with the goal of freeing a creature that could very well destroy the world as we know it and even if it doesn't, will leave an enormous power vacuum for that fascist government to potentially occupy when they invade Exandria?
I think there's some misconception people have that they think war shouldn't ever be personal and if it does become personal for someone then their logic is too clouded by their feelings to see the situation clearly, just automatically. And perhaps sometimes, in some contexts, this can be true! But not here. It's actually quite cut and dried that Orym's "flawed, human" perspective is the one reminding everyone of the human cost to Ludinus' grand plans, all in the name of so called "progress"
511 notes
·
View notes
holding onto hardcore season 4 like my life depends on it cuz i love the lore, i love his world i love how passionate he is about it and i hate how sometimes little love it gets from the latter half of the people that only stick to qsmp streams
cuz its the little details and dedication he puts to each build that makes it so special to me, the history and storytelling behind each build while still giving it a purpose and function and how much genuine love he has for it, even when we give him shit about him downplaying his own abilities he's proud of what he's built
like hell the fact that he is going to revisit old locations to add more to them its just so ausefh i love passion projects, i love being passionate about things people are passionate about
247 notes
·
View notes
Felt like drawing Skybound stuff, so why not give my two cents on what I think Delara looked like? I saw people saying that she must have been very young when her and Nadakhan were together because why else would he think an underage person would be her, but I hc that Delara just looked quite younger than the age she actually was (she got good genetics ig lol)
Something that I think people forget is that the first time Nadakhan saw Nya was 1. In black and white and 2. In very dim lighting. I’m not excusing him being a creep or marrying Nya, or the fact that he still continued to pursue her after he saw her in person, but I am just pointing out that within that first moment of seeing her Nadakhan could have very well thought it was Delara, and simply decided to ignore the differences after he realised it wasn’t actually her.
130 notes
·
View notes
Genuine question, sorry if it's dumb -
How do you work when there's something on the line? I find I freeze, and it's just so much more difficult to properly organize myself to produce something I'm proud of. But you've been to conventions, and you sell your work, so I'm assuming you feel pressure at least *sometimes.* do you work with it? Around it?
Hey Tymbul, it's not a dumb question, it's actually a really good one. I can only answer it to the best of my own abilities, in regards to my own art and practice, so mileage may vary.
This feeling of something being is "on the line" was what burned me out hard in 2019/20. I'd been making and sharing art for decades and all the while my thoughts took the shape of, "it has to be GOOD, it has to SAY something, it needs to hit X and Y requirement to be worthy" etc. Wherever that habit of pressuring myself came from, it wasn't helpful. I would glare at the blank page and curse every sketch I made because it (and by extension, myself) wasn't ever good enough.
I knew something had to change, so I changed. I began trying to make art with no pressure. Instead of pushing myself I let my foot off the brake. I changed the way I talked to myself about art. "I'm going to make this as good as I can. And if I can't, there's always next painting." I began starting a piece with fast, easy, not-precious stuff--random paint smears, doodles, gesture sketches. The pressure was off when all I had to do was start with trash and play around. If it just wasn't working and I had to scrap it or start over, oh well, it was just trash. I still run into this pressure today, though. Growth ain't linear and all that. Old habits die hard. I have to snap myself out of it with a feral screeching JUST THROW PAINT ON IT RRRRRRRRGH and I can usually let up on the brakes enough to get it going. It's a journey.
I like to think of this in terms of dog training. If you punch your dog and yell at it, that dog is going to have fear and doubt and won't be a healthy dog capable of performing the tasks you ask of it. But if you use positive reinforcement, they develop confidence and become dependable and sturdy. If you sit down to make art and every time its a barrage of IT HAS TO BE GOOD! YOU HAVE TO BE PROUD OF IT! EVERY NEW PIECE HAS TO BE BETTER! IF IT ISN'T YOU'LL BE A FAILURE! WHY AREN'T YOU DRAWING YET then man, that dog is cowering in the corner, it is not going to sit or fetch or anything. What if instead you said, "Okay! Time to make something. Let's do warm-ups and thumbnails to prepare so I'm ready to jump in. I am open to surprising myself by making something I'm excited about, but I won't beat myself up if today isn't that day. I know by doing this I'm practicing and getting better, it is never a waste." You are much more likely to Do a Thing if that thing feels good to do. That's just being an animal, man. Positive feedback.
To be honest, though, I still haven't found a successful way to make commissions less like pulling teeth. My method of art-making is to fuck around and find out and that's not a conducive method for a comm, which usually has a ton more expectation and strict parameters and my nemesis: Should-Look-Like. I am good at some things, I am not good at comms. Progress is not linear. I am still learning. My efforts to let up on the brakes made it so the car was a lot harder to control... for better or worse.
Hope this helps. Mostly, my advice is to find out how making art can feel good to you and then make a ton of it. Make more art than you think you should. It gets easier. And don't punch your dog.
56 notes
·
View notes
WIP FRIDAY
I apologize for getting this out two days late, I’ve been busy with lots of packing and events! But I have a little reprieve, so I wanted to post another WIP; this one is from Heart Full, Bowl Empty.
BE AWARE THAT THIS SEGMENT INVOLVES A CONVERSATION REVOLVING AROUND UNWILLING BUT INTENTIONAL STARVATION. I know there are people who say they can’t read this fic because of themes like this, so be aware of this before reading this WIP!!
I included this snippet in today’s WIP because I have like three versions of the entire segment this snippet is from. I feel like it’s a really important segment with a really important conversation, and I’ve had a hard time balancing all the emotions the way I want to between Ingo and Akari, with frustration, sadness, anger, and empathy, to realistically get them to the resolution I want at the end of it.
The final version will probably only include a few parts from this particular segment.
Enjoy!!
—————
“I knew it! You’re doing it again!” Akari’s eyebrows scrunched, trying to understand through the frustration. “You said you wouldn’t!”
“Circumstances will improve soon.” Clearly done with the conversation, that was all Ingo said, but it was confession enough that he had fallen back on his word. Shame contaminated his voice, but if there was any regret, he hid it well.
“No, it won’t!” They were not even half-way through winter yet. “And you know it won’t!”
Ingo said nothing as the kits carefully moved around his slumped form, finding comfortable places to settle around him. She didn’t know if he intended to snuff the conversation out with angered silence, or if he was just too exhausted to care about arguing with her anymore. If it wasn’t for his small occasional signs of movement or acknowledgement, she’d think he was actually sleeping.
Akari carefully stepped into the nesting layers, moving to sit down next to Ingo. She settled with her back against the cavern wall, pulling her knees close as a few kits shuffled around to accommodate her. “You know I’m right.”
Huffing out an irritated sigh and nothing more, it didn’t seem like Ingo had any intentions to engage with her argument anymore.
“You couldn’t even pull yourself up over the ridge,” She prodded at him again, trying to motivate more conversation out of him. “I had to help you!”
“There are many, many factors that go into that.” A reluctant answer, perhaps a reflexive attempt to quell her worry; Ingo feebly rubbed his wrapped hand, almost as a display for his excuse.
“I’ve seen you do more when you’ve been hurt worse.” Akari retorted, a little softer now but still cold.
Ingo’s eyes remained closed, though his hardened expression implied that it came across as more accusatory than she’d intended. But perhaps it was precisely the time to be accusatory.
“Ingo, you’re so tired all the time now – you stopped coming to the training grounds because you just can’t make the trips all the time anymore! And you’re sleeping so much more than you used to, and it’s like you’re always hungry all the time, even though all I see you doing anymore is gathering food!” Akari’s voice grew more jagged as she continued to jab at him, entirely uninterrupted.
It was getting difficult. With Ingo’s tunic still sopping by the bucket, still somewhat red from the exhausted effort of washing out the blood, it could not hide the ribs that pressed out just a little bit more, or help fill out what the waistline had lost under the loosening belt. The abject dread of directly acknowledging that was too much.
“And- and look! You aren’t even willing to hold a conversation with me anymore, and I don’t know if it’s because you just won’t, or because you can’t!” The kits shifted uncomfortably as Akari retreated back into her own frustration instead. “People think you’re sick, Ingo! They’re asking me about you! What are you doing?”
The exhausted man remained where he laid in the nesting material, only moving his hands to rub at his face and sigh — a deep, forced sigh that swelled his side before releasing. Akari almost didn’t think he’d answer her, but with some effort, he propped himself up first onto his elbows, then slumped forward. The teen watched him run shaky fingers through his hair as he sat next to her.
“…I don’t know what I should do.” The guilt. The weary guilt cracked his voice and tore Akari’s anger down to heartache.
29 notes
·
View notes