(no subject)
I don’t remember the process of creation being this hard. But here I am again, the night before a self-imposed deadline which will absolutely be forgiven if I fail to make, and I’m in just as much agony as I was before each deadline of the Anatomy for Artists classes that I finished taking in December. I drew a sketch and started to cut it into a stencil, and it’s just so wrong.
It was supposed to be, finally, a first image of Hailie Poisontongue, a Black Fury Battle-Bard Galliard who I played on Immortal Vigilance for many years. I wanted to make it somewhat in the style of those Ancient Greek vases that I used to make the tile mural for my parents’ bathroom decades ago. I saw in my mind an image of my courageous warrior on a pegasus, howling as she rode into battle, her labrys in an outstretched arm.
But the more I look at it, the less it looks like Hailie. The pegasus is the focus, naturally, and Hailie looks rather puny on the huge beast with its impressive wings hiding most of her. She never rode a pegasus, in fact other than the one spirit who prophesized that her daughter would bear a garou, she had a rather poor track record with them. She was given a fetish labrys in play, yes, but it was ridiculous- it allowed her to talk to plants. An axe that could talk to trees. I can understand the staff being leery of giving Hailie a toy that would add to her considerable combat skills, but what the fuck is an axe doing talking to trees? Who would make that? What purpose would it serve?
I remember the ST who ran my successful Athro challenge, with that as a treat for completing it, asking me if I liked it. It was the first fetish I’d ever been given by an ST, so I said yes even as I was reeling at how completely pathetic that was. I mean, would’ve been worse to hand Hailie a Harmony Flute, but at least that wouldn’t be such a hypocritical thing for a flute to do.
Anyway. I’m comfortable with pegasi, so I drew a pegasus. Hailie astride it is an afterthought, and looks it. I need to redo this painting’s concept, scrap the pegasus completely and either be brave enough to just portray Hailie posing in a way that displays her fabulous scar-fetishes, or facing a foe. I dimly recall that she did once face herself in combat, and bested that bitch, that might be interesting. But better yet might be just her.
But why does it feel like pulling my own fingernails off to even write about it, much less put pencil to paper? When did creation become agony? Is this tied to the loss of Coyote, like so much else, or am I using that as a convenient excuse?
This is the second time in my life that I’ve more or less stopped existing, and it’s just as painful as the first but lasting longer, and I really am losing hope. I’m so far gone. I’m so distant from any and all friends, though thank fuck, I do have PlayStation, Discord, and other friends, and the ability to reach old meatspace friends via the internet. I’m probably going back on an SSRI, maybe that will help or maybe not. There’s no pill for Get A Job, Hippie, fortunately or unfortunately. I could probably manage to get another art student or two, I don’t know why I haven’t- didn’t even call the lead my friend gave me, and she probably did a lot to convince said young lady to try art lessons via FaceTime versus an in-person teacher.
As Valentine’s Day approaches, I wonder if I’ll ever get to love again, and ugh, immediate tears. And it just isn’t fair. I had more opportunities than Coyote to slip onto another horse’s back, and I couldn’t manage it. They didn’t want me that way. They hooked up with a married lady because they could get what they wanted and detach when they wanted, and very young people don’t know what they want anyway. I continue to hate how easy a change it was for Coyote, and how hard it is for me, but luckily, he’s no longer just changed his life by a distance of one driveway and the absence of the old ball ‘n chain. It’s perhaps less idyllic. Could be a cruddy new apartment in a run-down neighborhood that he’s stuck in for years because moving sucks so bad. Once in a blue moon, maybe the swoon of his new love breaks and he wonders if he made a colossal mistake in leaving me. Surely he must have a few regrets? But we don’t talk, so I don’t know.
I really miss talking to him. But moping about that doesn’t make a Hailie sketch happen. I gotta do that myself. Right. Turn the PS4 off and get to work, Artist.