o cool i finally changed my blog’s layout
i’ve been trying to get back at it but i always can’t seem to finish anything anymore. it’s been quite a struggle. i’ve been constantly losing motivation and drive to continue painting. my mind is a mess, and i can’t paint what i think about anymore. everything has been really hard to understand and form into images. it’s like my mind is constantly screaming at me, telling me to do it, but i couldn’t. i really just couldn’t. i felt lifeless.
but thank you. i am glad that people still find joy in my work, even if at times it seems so empty and bland. i really appreciate it. this means so much to me.
It has been quite the while too, yes.
I’ve always treated drawing as something that would distract me from reality. I enjoy drawing. The process, and especially the results. I do admit that I have a lot of insecurities with my art (especially my extensive stagnation and inconsistencies) but I loved it anyway. I treated my own art with great value. They were more than mere images to me. They had stories that only I could interpret. Stories within the process of making.
I treated drawing as an outlet with the internal rage and despair filling inside me. I have no close friends around me. I kept this wall around myself.
Then came the days that I finally got some recognition with my craft. I was delighted that my hobby finally took me somewhere that I can actually be proud of.
It felt new. I lived the life of an invisible being until those days.
I felt motivated to keep on going, and keep on learning. It was a slow process, but I did not mind. In the core of it all, I did everything for myself. I wanted to exceed my limitations constantly, with the attention as just desserts.
But then again, insecurities were never meant to leave me. They come often, and they come heavily. Some days would come that I would halt myself from art, then wait for my momentum to get back. At crucial days, I would force myself to draw, but end up with horrible results. It was a normal thing, and I just had to live with such a burden.
But now, I feel that everything has become meaningless in my eyes.
Sure, my art looks… Decent enough, but-
They just feel so empty now. Irrelevant. Pointless.
Perhaps my insecurities finally got the best of me.
The reason why I quit.