chronically online 30ish queer digital & traditional artist. obsessed with my D&D blorbos. clerics are than heal bitches: fight me. 🌊 do not repost. 🖋️
Could I ask where dungeons of the kind in D&D came about? Like they’re a cultural icon now, but I don’t understand their origins very well
The dungeon crawl is a pretty standard trope in 1960s and 1970s sword and sorcery fiction and its near ancestors. A lot of ink has been spilled about how Dungeons & Dragons has become so creatively insular that it's basically emulating itself, and while there's some truth to that, the claim that dungeon crawls are part of that is a misconception. That bit is lifted more or less directly from the contemporary literature which original flavour D&D was inspired by – modern commentators tend to miss that because nobody reads sword and sorcery anymore. If you look at Fritz Leiber, Jack Vance, Robert Howard, you'll see dungeon crawls aplenty; Conan the Barbarian* went on not a few!
Of course, that just kicks the can down the road a bit: if Dungeons & Dragons got the dungeon crawl from 1960s and 1970s sword and sorcery fiction, where did they get it from? That's a question I'm less qualified to address, since literary history isn't my area. I know there are several students of early to mid 20th Century popular fiction following this blog, though; perhaps a qualified party can weigh in?
* Yes, I'm aware that Conan the Barbarian was 1930s; I'm including him in the "near ancestors" of 1960s sword and sorcery fiction
i don't like to yuck people's yum but i have to say that my least favorite thing to come from the current state of Artists on the Internet is the idea of a sketchbook as something nice and pretty and shareable. like i love me a notebook full of gorgeous art don't get me wrong but that is NOT what a sketchbook is. a sketchbook is my friend who i carry around everywhere like a purse chihuahua. it is the physical manifestation of my notes app. it is the container into which i wring my brain out. it is my therapist. and most of all it is filled with absolutely terrible sketches that should never see the light of day.
There's a huge amount of pressure to make perfect art.
You're supposed to know and have such a good handle on all of the fundamentals because, if you don't, the algos won't show your work to anyone.
We have to simultaneously be (usually) multimedia experts and infinitely relatable.
There isn't room in the Algo to experiment and try new things... Because it actively sabotages you if you do. Use a different media? Stop working in the same style? Bye bye, followers. Goodbye, reach.
It's heartbreaking! Experimentation is the crux that's kept me doing art consistently for almost a year now.
I used to go *months* without drawing. And now I feel weird if I haven't drawn that day; it's such a comfort to me. To give myself time to decompress.
And to think that the space I use for playing and messing up and thumbnailing and trying new things and GROWING is a thing that could actively sabotage a career as an artist is ...
Honestly fuck it.
FUCK the algorithms. FUCK the nonsense that means I have to """""niche down"""" and never change.
No. We're human. We change. We grow. We evolve. We EXPERIMENT.
Anyways long winded way of saying just share it. You don't need a perfect sketchbook.
So many folks have told me that my pages where I actively add silly notes or go (OH NO) when I realized I made a mistake? They love it.
Do it. Remind each other that imperfections are necessary. It brings community. It relieves others (and yourself) of that pressure. Even if just for a bit. Even if just for a little.
i don't like to yuck people's yum but i have to say that my least favorite thing to come from the current state of Artists on the Internet is the idea of a sketchbook as something nice and pretty and shareable. like i love me a notebook full of gorgeous art don't get me wrong but that is NOT what a sketchbook is. a sketchbook is my friend who i carry around everywhere like a purse chihuahua. it is the physical manifestation of my notes app. it is the container into which i wring my brain out. it is my therapist. and most of all it is filled with absolutely terrible sketches that should never see the light of day.