Thanks
Nov 16, 2024
I'm so proud to have finished my first batch of commissions, so today I thought I'd slow down, take a break, and collect my thoughts on what the hell even just happened. I've had a constant swarm of thoughts and emotions circling my mind these past couple months about my life, my art, and most importantly, cute fluffy anthropomorphic animals. Most of these are happy thoughts, but they haven't come without significant sacrifice.
My drawing setup. What even am I looking at?
I get that on a surface level I'm just drawing furries in my bedroom, but its meaning to me is expressed not explicitly in the contents of my art, but rather in why I'm drawing them at all. I've written this post to illustrate why I draw, what it means to me and what I want it to look like in the future.
I've always been a very confused person with regards to my identity (see my scatterbrained "Identity" blogpost), but as it has for so many individuals, the furry fandom somehow helps clear the brainfog that obscures my identity. The way it does so is, for most part, within how I express and feel about my sona, Pishi. I could write a whole thing about it, but in short, I feel he in his anthropomorphic form is an expression of my whole self, while his feral form is a separate entity while still comprising a part of me. The former is a vessel through which I express myself, while the latter is the innocent, non-verbal, precious and optimistic part of me that I feel I must nurture and protect.
Given some context of what this all means to me regardless of how insanely autistic it sounds out loud, it would come as no surprise that having art drawn of him means the entire world to me. It is essentially a realization and validation of my identity and self. It makes him tangible.
I drew him for the first time on November 20th of 2023. It was my first digital artwork, at least of any sort of animal, inspired by some art a friend shared through a video game we both played at the time. It's the little icon on the top left of the page on this website, wearing a blue hat 'cause I had no idea how to draw the head. I spent probably a whopping three hours on it, stuttering with the undo button and making endless adjustments to realize his appearance as best I could at the time. Still, despite the struggle, I showed myself that I wielded the ability to make this part of me real, at least in the sense that I could see it smiling back at me from my computer screen. If this is how incredible it felt to see my own beloved character in front of me, I thought, I wanted my friends to feel the same incredible way... if only I knew how to draw their characters.
Over the next few months I proceeded to make some of the most heartfelt, impassioned, and aesthetically repulsive art I've ever made in my entire life. It took about a month's practice before I felt even a sliver of the courage necessary to deliver my first gift, but because Christmas happened to roll around I felt it appropriate to finally commit to it. I spent a few hours on Christmas Eve spamming Ctrl+Z and single paint strokes as I cycled between "I'm goated" and "I fucking suck", after which I had finally completed a crudely drawn boykisser of his character. This short-term battle with myself in pursuit of a completed artwork was all worth it in the end for his thanks and appreciation.
This loop of gifting went on repeat through the new year as I quickly became addicted to the process and emotional payoff of making art for people I value. I reconnected with people from the Tetris community and even made new friends with those whom I greatly admired. It was incredible to me that I was now able to show what people meant to me by dedicating some time and hard work to making something for them. I felt I finally had a social purpose, as I could provide something of value to people as an expression of my gratitude for their presence in my life, as big or small as it may be.
The place art has in my life has only grown since then as I've slowly realized its importance to me as an expressive medium. I don't know exactly what set it off, but in early September I spontaneously began an ongoing commitment to drawing every single day. When I first started, I remember wanting to do commissions so I could try supporting the hobby, but I also knew it wouldn't happen if not for some significant changes in not only my art, but also more importantly in myself. One doesn't happen before the other, at least for what I aspire to. I swear to you, I've never worked so hard on anything in my life as I have been these past two months in pursuing art.
I didn't expect it to happen so soon, but somehow my drawings have already found a place on social media. Somehow it resonates with not only myself and some friends, but with a little audience of people who appreciate something I made as it scrolls by every day or two. I don't know what it is, but how this makes me feel is just on another level. A few hundred doesn't sound like a lot, but to me it's already at such a scale that I cannot properly fathom it. Like, hundreds of people resonate with something I made, related to it, or maybe just liked whatever colors I chose or some little decision I made. It's beautiful, I think.
I loved working on commissions the past week and a half. I loved personalizing them as I do with my gifts, meeting new people, and learning new things. I think I'm going to do this for a very long time, certainly as long as I have the means. I'll have a new page for commissions info in the coming days after I take a little breather.
The positivity and encouragement means the world to me. I feel like Twitter isn't a place meant for listening to what people have to say, so I don't think I could bring myself to start thanking followers or whatever. I'll just show my gratefulness with my commitment to becoming a better artist. However, If I ever have something to say, and boy is there a lot, it'll be here for whoever wants to read through it. Thank you for enjoying.
My x200 ThinkPad in my poorly lit room.