#art is therapy

[elcosmiquechild]

G I R L • G L O W • U P 💁🏾‍♀️✨

Original Collage Art Created By ElCosmiqueChild

[prendi-fiato-e-ricomincia]

Dettagli 🌷

[creamyleather]

Requested Art

[sunnywalnut]

I fully believe that the only thing that stopped me from identifying as trans when I was younger was the fact of my autistic black and white thinking.

Well yeah. That guy is trans. And I think he's super cool. But I couldn't be trans despite the fact that I feel more like myself with him because he embodies everything I wish I could be but stop myself from being.

Oh no I absolutely could not be transgender at all! I didn't know I was a dude since I was three like all these other people who were taught the concept of gender and the fact that gay people exist from a young age and I only learned lesbians existed after I was ten years old.

Of course that person is transgender. The whole reason I changed the name on the sticky note set on their desk was because they're my friend and I'm an ally. Totally not because I want somebody to do the same for me.

Nah bro. I don't think my obsession with gender neutral names and wanting to change my name to Alex because it was the only gn name I knew at the time had any transgender reasons for it. I'm just super attached to the idea of accidentally being mistaken for a boy. Even if it's just by name.

The reason I specifically searched for books with male protagonists my age when I was younger was totally because of super straight reasons and not because I identified with them more than any of the female leads, despite being extremely similar to a lot of them.

Oh totally I'm not jealous of my brother who's only one year older than me, therefore I get to see him embody all these manly traits like getting a cool low voice and be taught things that I wish I could learn but I wasn't explicitly invited so I stay where I was.

What do you mean it's not normal to treasure the blue Finding Nemo basketball cap that I sneered at on Christmas Day for "looking too boyish" and wearing it inside the house while I crawled up on my grandfather's lap so he could read to me.

Of course my best friend of over seven years is my sister! Despite the fact that I feel completely uncomfortable when she claims that I am hers. Not because we're not family. Because something is wrong with the word "sister" and I can't tell what.

I mean shit. The only reason I realized that I could've been queer was bc somebody told me that if I(a "straight girl") liked a trans guy, then I would be pansexual.

Untrue, obviously, since trans guys are still guys, and my little 13yo brain thought the same way, but the fact that somebody said it so casually just opened the floodgates of "what ifs" for me.

And you know what?

The year after that, I came out publicly as bi. Then ace. Then two years after that gender fluid. Then in the same year, transmasc. Then lesbian a couple months later. Then transmasc but not lesbian after a couple weeks because my partner was also genderfluid. And now? Transmasc/trans man and bi, specifically for the girls and gnc folks.

Had that person not told me I was pansexual, I'm pretty sure I would've just gone around being indifferent to my romantic partners thinking that friendship was the romance all along this entire time.

Six entire years. And I was autistic the whole time.

It was always about being a good person for the "other" people who needed me until I realized I could be the other people as well.

The whole reason I didn't "show signs" of being transgender during my childhood?

Same reason I didn't show signs of being autistic.

I was mirroring people. I was mirroring what I thought was needed of me. Ignoring my interests or things I was curious about. Because I knew what was expected of me. That part of it was explained thoroughly, at the very least. The gender part of it all. And by God, I was going to do a good job at it.

And yeah. I was happy when I found dresses that were pretty.

Not because I was the one wearing them.

But because it meant that my mom thought I was doing such a good job at Gender that I deserved a skirt. In order to show it off to everyone.

Same reason I allowed my hair to be done. Little jewels to be twisted into my long locks that I grew myself and refused to cut. Because this was what I was good at. Everyone, even if they didn't like me, they liked my long, feminine hair. They liked my frilly, feminine dresses. And my shiny, feminine jewelry.

And well... I liked being liked. I liked being admired.

Because nobody noticed me any other way.

Unless it was for my art.

I was good at art.

I'm still good at art.

My "feminine" art.

I no longer get joy from long hair and frilly dresses and shiny jewelry.

But I still get joy from art.

Even if it isn't feminine.

Even if it isn't shown to anyone.

Because it is mine.

It is me.

It is the one thing that I grew up seeing that everyone could do. Regardless of skill. Everyone was thrown in a class together. Everyone crowded around the girl who drew anime in class. Everyone knew of the famous men like Van Gogh. Everyone was able to do art. Everyone was able to be creative. To get messy. To work with their hands.

And everyone meant that there was space for me, too.

There were finally shades of gray.

And I clutch them dearly to my heart, right next to the rainbows of devotion I painted on the inside walls of my ribcage.

Each palette I've created is a labor of love, used to picture the world in each wonderful shade of admiration.

And that is still the one thing that I have found that try as they might, they cannot sort into sexes.

So I keep my shades of gray. I keep my rainbows and my flags. And I paint them with all the colors I like. Because art showed me a way to be free. And I refuse to live my life in a cage. Regardless of who's hands made it.

I just know that it won't be mine.

[annielovenstein-holmes-scholar]

Cats, dog and maned wolf

[jupiter-moonchild]

I decided to update the hair on the Dan doll. Here are the curls.

Here's the result.

He looked a bit lost without his friend, so now they sit together on a shelf. I'll make them some tiny laptops soon.

They kept falling over.

#DanielHowell #PhilLester #Crochet #Felt #Sewing #DollMaker #DanDoll #PhilDoll #NotForSale #Gengar #FanArt #Art

As an added bonus, this part of the video made me laugh so much it set off my asthma. 🤣🤣

Right, it's after 1 am, I need sleep, it's been a bit of a day. G'night lovelies.

[vonhellsing]

knew id always come around.

[prendi-fiato-e-ricomincia]

“The beginning is perhaps more difficult than anything else, but keep heart, it will turn out all right.” 🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

-V. van Gogh

[craycraybluejay]

Slippery slope fallacy is a fallacy I just personally was already like this way before I found an outlet or communities to try to control and co-exist with myself.

Like. The first time I considered killing someone was at ≈10 or 11 probably. First fetish stuff came earlier. What puritans don't want to realize is that a lot of people just have stuff that may or may not be viable to act on within their personality. I mean, they would realize it if they didn't indiscriminately act on strange saviour complexes and entitled ideas and the desire to hurt other people behind a shield of social justice etc etc but I digress.

Everyone deserves safe and healthy outlets for their feelings and thoughts. And it's not because sex is nasty or because rage is evil. It's because sometimes you want to cry and complain but you know your friend is busy with their own nightmarish issues. You write about it. You call your boss a bitch. You say you hope your mother in law dies in a car wreck. You draw yourself drowning cause that's what the pain feels like right now. You listen to music with powerfully dark lyrics. You punch a pillow or roll up balls of paper and throw them all over. It's not just pain, either. You cannot just give everyone everything all the time. You'll hurt them, or they'll hurt you; you need time with yourself. Read a story. Make a scarf. It doesn't matter if there's blood and guts involved so long as you are safe and not endangering anyone without their consent. You have a crush on your teacher and your friends tell you its gross. Doodle something, related or not. Draft a long mean text to your insensitive friends and don't send it. Just keep it. Or delete it. Doesn't matter.

How it must hurt to deny yourself catharsis; to feel watched and judged even in your thoughts and feelings. How fucking heartbreaking. You don't deserve that, even if you personally are a total asswipe of a person. So stop doing it to yourself. Dance like no one's watching. Cause I promise you, they aren't. And it wouldn't matter anyway. It's not their business. Stop letting people grab away your sketchbook and feeling like YOU should be ashamed of what you make there and not them for the violation of privacy. Stop letting people convince you you must be under constant scrutiny lest you suddenly turn cartoonishky evil. Just stop.

[chadirahshannon]

[alittleart]

A piece I'm currently working on. It's clay on art board. The clay has recycled newspaper in it. As it dried it curled the board. I'm not mad about that. I think it will add character to the finished piece. Rn I need to make a slurry to fill in the cracks. Unsure yet if I'll fill in all of the cracks or leave some to become part of the piece.

[iquincey]