I know I generally try to keep things fairly silly and tongue in cheek, but I need to vent if that’s okay. Please read if you feel similar. I’ve been having a long battle against self deprecation. Not self hatred, deprecation. I won that battle earlier this year. this has been happening for years now but it hit a breaking point about half a year ago or so. It was getting so bad that people were starting to notice and ask me what was happening. So I’ve always been considered an artist. By my parents, by my teachers, by myself, you can probably tell. And I felt that I was the best I could be. Since there weren’t many other kids like me. They wouldn’t draw imaginary characters when they were done with tests or make a bunch of miis and Minecraft skins based off nothing in particular. I could only compare myself to myself. Sure I watched a lot of cartoons like Gumball or Loud House (which is where I unintentionally got most of my style from) with extremely exaggerated and unique art styles, but I was at that age where you don’t really realize that what you’re seeing took months, sometimes even years to make. I was content making simple drawings that didn’t even bother having ears, noses, even fingers. But then I logged onto scratch, this amazing (well not that amazing now) platform where there with so many artists making genuine masterpieces all when I could barely draw a ball correctly. And then on YouTube, I started seeing all these amazing indie shows and animations with so much detail and personality. And then I started to look at my art and think “I can do more then this” it felt exciting at first. It felt I could do anything. But then overtime I realized that I couldn’t just restart from the beginning. I still couldn’t draw ears, I still couldn’t draw noses, and I still couldn’t draw fingers. I started looking at my art that I spent half an hour of painstakingly drawing, with disgust. With anger. I thought I was better than this. I thought I NEEDED to get better. Like people would look at me and laugh if I ever drew again. I started seeing all these talented artists saying my art “looked cool” or was “super charming” and I thought I had to prove them wrong. Like they thought I was on their level. Like I was looking at gods and held my fist up in bravery to climb the mountain. Except it was less of bravery and more of guilt. My brain was telling me that if I didn’t keep up they’d be too embarrassed to even talk to me. And when I logged onto magma, it started to get even worse. Because now I saw them draw from start to finish. Not just the final product. I saw them effortlessly do what I couldn’t do to save my life. It felt like I walked into the vip room, and I could just look, envy, and draw my comic strip looking goobers next to “real artists”. Like if you put a 8 year old in a music contest against Mozart. I was looking at my characters unevenly sized hands and simple bodies with simple shading and felt like I was still a kid. But now in the body of a young man. It was getting to the point where I started to think I was regressing. Like I was an idiot who was falling down the mountain on top of the boulder I was supposed to push. I saw all these people and called them “real artists” because they could do all the things I couldn’t do. I tried to tell myself “I’m still a teenager, I’ll get better when I’m an adult” but then I remembered people like Gino who were close to my age and pulling off things I couldn’t do in a century. So I just had these two thoughts screaming and crying out loud in my head at the same time, and I just couldn’t bare it. I tried to never tell anyone what I actually thought of my art. Because I thought they would just hear this little child crying to his mama about how my art sucks. I didn’t want to be “that one kid.” I wanted to be them. I wanted to join them. But I couldn’t. You can’t rush art. But I felt like I wasn’t making art. So I tried my hardest. I started posting more art, almost completely art outside of music. I started trying to draw realistic hands and eyes and heads in my notebook and punching myself in the face if I had to retry. (I wish that was a joke) I tried drawing characters with things outside my comfort zone like neckwear, makeup, even women’s chests. I felt like I needed to speedrun own body and skills to feel like I was acceptable. And this is where it started to drip out. I started saying things like “you’re so much better than me” or “I couldn’t do that in a million years” as compliments. I didn’t even notice at first. I was just being honest. And then people started saying that they LOVED my art and that I should stop saying that, and I thought that would be stupid. My art being as good as theirs? I haven’t heard a weirder sentence in my life!
[CONTINUATION] And then, earlier today, it hit a climax. I was on a skribbl up game with EvilBear and I thought everything was silly and goofy and I was joking around, but then…I got goosebumps. I realized that everyone slowly left after I started talking about my skills. It felt like a bump in the dark. EvilBear stopped what he was doing and talked to me. Saying that I put so much care and time into even the simplest of characters, how I put so much effort into them. And I realized that the rock I had been pushing for half a decade at that point…Wasn’t there. I just forced myself to think there was a walk to make a point that no one made. Long story short: I was wrong. I thought art was a tournament to the death. A long and painful collection of gauntlets that you’ll never make it back from if you lose with the only thing you can gain is the satisfaction you’re alive. It’s not that at all. It’s a community of people who bounce ideas off each other, comment on what could be better, and making lifelong friends and memories. I made up a false narrative to make me feel worse about myself. I’ll try to work on myself in the future. Thank you all who have supported me, all who have followed me, and all who have gotten me to where I am. I’m not leaving till the day I kick the bucket.
