I haven’t been feeling well over the past few days.
I’ve been going over some of my previous posts on this blog, and some of my old stories and art on my story blog and DA account. I don’t draw anymore and I write very little. It wasn’t a conscious choice to give it up. I just began slowing down and eventually stopped doing it. Although it’s a conscious choice now since I realized that.
Some of the posts I’ve written here make me embarrassed when I go back and read them. There’s a post from January 2015 I read over where I’m pretty much confident and optimistic about the year regarding art. Now that it’s 2016, I want to go back in time and choke myself like the moron I was at the time to be writing that.
There’s a question that goes “What would you do if you knew you wouldn’t fail?” My answer to that question is many things. But that’s not reality, so it’s a silly question. My first failure/mistake was thinking I could draw or write anything good in the first place. And no, “everyone learns at their own pace” doesn’t help me feel better. That just tells me I’m slow.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself or my life. I do know art won’t be a part of it. Looking over the pictures and stories I made in the past makes me somewhat nostalgic and wish I could go back to those times when I enjoyed it. The truth is it’s not fun anymore. I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere down the line, drawing and writing lost their charm, especially the former. I don’t plan things to write anymore. I just write whatever comes to mind. Perhaps the loss of interest is the consequence for becoming interested in drawing for a poor reason to begin with (wanting to make fan art).
Everyone can’t be the best, but some people aren’t best at anything. Likewise, no one can be good at everything, but some people aren’t good at anything. If I could go back to 2010 (which was a bad year to begin with due to family drama), I’d never pick up a pencil to do anything except write a school assignment.
My only problem regarding art now is what to do with my sketchbooks. One is already full, but the second is only half-full and the third is completely empty. I suppose I could toss them out, but I’d hate to waste so much paper.
I’m going to end this post with a post from Whisper and my relation to it.
Story of my life. One of the biggest lies I was told as a kid is “It’ll be okay.” No, it won’t. It will not be okay.