I remember you saying once that you didn’t feel (paraphrasing) that your art schooling experience was very fulfilling, and I believe you used the word slapdash 🥺
Can you tell us about your artistic journey following that period? How did you get from unknowing to growing?
Ok, so first apologies because this is a long one.
After college I was so focused on surviving that I didn't really have the time, space, or money to focus on making art for a long time. A few months after school ended I was homeless and couchsurfing to avoid living in my car. Over the next 5 years or so I bounced around a lot. Moved across the country and back, ended up homeless again, worked three jobs at the same time to afford a place to live. In this period, the only really meaningful art that I made were a couple of commissions to paint garden sculptures for my friend's mom. Example:
Anyway, then moved to my current place almost 7 years ago. Still mostly didn't feel like I had the time, space, funds, or fucks to give to do art. Once I got the apartment to myself a couple of years later, I started to feel like I could breathe a little easier and started doing small creative projects like trying out tie-dyeing for the first time. It wasn't until after Covid hit (and I got it bad enough that I truly thought I might die alone in my apartment) and then I left my job that I really started painting for myself again. Once stores opened back up, I bought a bunch of cheap canvases and paints. I've never actually taken a class on acrylic painting (there was never one available during my school time) but it's the medium that works for me most often.
I did a couple of random projects when the mood struck and I had the spoons, the Camp Fuck You I'm a Wizard painting being the biggest example. But rarely worked on a single project for longer than a day or two before losing steam.
Meeting D was a creative catalyst for me. For the first time in over a decade I felt Good, I felt Inspired, because I felt Wanted. I jokingly (or not so jokingly) referred to him as my muse, because his enthusiasm and encouragement made it so easy to fall into more projects and try new things in my art and feel great about all of it. I created more pieces, and importantly more pieces that I was actually proud of, after meeting D than I have in the entire rest of my life combined.
But obviously that didn't work out. He's still an encouraging presence from time to time, but it's not the same. It's getting harder and harder to want to create, to feel inspired lately. I felt good about my last project, but it was a commission and that's probably the only reason I finished it. Most of the dregs of my creative energy currently go into making OF content to keep that small trickle of income coming in. If I weren't getting paid I probably wouldn't have the drive to do that any more either. Turns out intense, soul-sucking loneliness isn't good for the ol' creative flow. I don't know if I'm growing any more.
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Flufftober Day 21: Alt: Caught in the Rain
Here’s today’s snippet for Flufftober. Today’s prompt was "Kiss for good luck" but I couldn't think of any way to incorporate it, so I went with the alt prompt Caught in the Rain. It comes from @flufftober 's prompt list.
I’m using the characters from Syndicate. These scenes are non-canon and written simply to practice with lighter content. Let me know if you want to be tagged in future responses for this event!
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“Walk me home?” Raymond asked, staring from the bench. He swung his scarf around him.
“I’m in the opposite direction,” I pointed out.
“Are you in a hurry to get back?” He asked, raising a eyebrow at me, and of course I wasn’t, but I should be heading back.
“No, but—“
“I don’t want to be done talking, and I’m guessing you don’t want me walking you home.”
“I don’t think you should even be in the Emerald District.”
“Exactly,” he held out a gloved hand to help me up, and it wasn’t like I needed help but I took it just to stand, then adjusted my jacket. I slid my hands into its pockets, and Raymond settled with hooking his thumbs on the pockets of his jeans.
“Do you want to take a bus or something? It’d be faster, if you really have to get back,” he asked as we fell Ito step, side by side.
I didn’t, not really. “I prefer walking.”
“I noticed you always walk,” he said.
I ran my fingers through my hair, a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, I just…”
“Safer?” he asked, glancing at me. His head looked a little small in comparison to the scarf around his neck.
“Safer, and I’m more in control,” I admitted. I wasn’t sure if it sounded dumb, I’d expressed it to jasmine before and she’d countered that it made things take way longer and you wound up exhausted.
“Makes sense. Hey, I was wondering, why didn’t you learn to drive?”
I fixed my eyes on the ground ahead of me. “I don’t need to.”
“I wasn’t trying to accuse you of anything,” he said, so I must have spoken sharply. “I was just wondering, because we weren’t really friends back then, and it seems like you’d still be on control.”
There were dots on the sidewalk. I looked up, the sky had turned gray at some point. “Is it raining?”
“What?” Raymond paused and looked up and around. “I don’t think so.”
A drop hit my cheek. “Goddamnit,” I said. I looked back at him. He was still staring at the sky, his face looking concerned. Maybe hurt. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. Maybe you’re right. Zachary drives plenty, anyway.” I took a few more steps. “At least it’s only sprinkling.”
“Yeah,” he nodded and followed, didn’t speak up again. But less then a block later, the rain had gotten much heavier.
I stopped walking. “Great, it’s really raining now.” I lifted my hand to shield my eyes, looked around, but there was no where to duck for cover.”
Raymond didn’t seem to mind it, had kept walking and now turned to face me. “It’s been super dry, it’s kind of a relief,” he said, looking up to the sky. He closed his eyes for a second, letting raindrops hit his face.
My jacket was going to get wet. “I’m guessing you don’t have an umbrella?”
“You mean, you don’t in that jacket of yours?” He shot me a smile. Admittedly, I should keep an umbrella in my jacket. I shook my head.
His smiled faded, he could see my annoyance. “You can just go back, if you want.”
“You wanted me to walk you home.”
“But you can, if—“
“I’m wasting more time in the rain talking about this,” I said, and kept walking. He kept pace with me.
“So, you don’t like driving and you don’t like the rain,” he observed.
I gestured to my jacket. “This thing isn’t supposed to be in rain.”
“It’s fine,” he said.
“It’s leather.”
“You shouldn’t go swimming it it, but it can take a little rain” he thought that over. “Pretty sure.”
The rain had flattened my hair to get in my eyes. I slicked it back, out of the way. I wasn’t looking where I was going and my foot sloshed into a puddle. I cursed.
“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” he gave me a sympathetic look. “Wet socks suck.”
“Rain leaves tracks, and it drips everywhere.” I pointed out.
“I’ve never minded,” he said.
“It’s cold and uncomfortable.”
He was grinning, who knew why. He tucked his own wet hair back. “I like how it smells.”
“It smells fine,” I admitted. “Everything’s wet.” My sock was wet, I could feel it in my shoe, and cold droplets were sneaking down my back.
“You know, a car would protect you from the rain,” he said.
I stopped walking.
He stopped too, looking apologetic immediately. “I’m sorry. I was just joking, it’s fine. Let’s get out of the rain.”
“He didn’t want to teach me,” I said.
“He—“ confusion, then he got it. “Zachary? But— I thought he offered?”
I shook my head. “He offered to teach you.”
He bit his lip. “I—“
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, and I don’t care, I like walking.”
“Except when it’s raining.”
I looked up at the clouds again. “Except when it’s raining,” I repeated.
It was like sticking my face in a bucket of water for how quickly I was getting wet.
“Then it’s get going,” he said, and he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me away from looking at the sky.
He started speed-walking, glancing back to give a smile, his hand tight on min, encouraging me to keep up. I had to start a job, my other hand coming out of my pocket to help me along. “Ooh, shelter!” He called a moment later. I squinted through the rain, it was starting to get too gray and foggy to see, and Raymond suddenly changed directions.
He tugged me under an awning, pulling me close to get under the thin covering. It was hardly keeping the rain out, just keeping it out of my eyes, but in order for it to be helping any, I was very close to him.
He was grinning wildly. His hair was back in front of his face, wet and dripping, and his face was spattered with raindrops. He was still holding my hand, but as it was no longer necessary to spur my along, he released it. He glanced upwards again. “I think I’m still getting rained on.”
“Of course you are. You can’t escape it.” I was very, very close to him, which was making me forget about my wet sock.
“Oh my god! There’s a gap!” He pointed accusatorially at the gap between the wall and the fabric giving us limited shelter.
I reached a hand up, feeling droplets sneak their way in, then caught him smiling. My hand was blocking them. I kept it there.
“Okay, you win. Rain bad,” he said. I wasn’t going to contradict him, but at the very least, this was better than being in a car.
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Flufftober Tag List (as to be +/-)
@puzzleddragon02
@sleepy-night-child
@drippingmoon
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