#not sure how i feel about my traditional art on here so might delete later

[mearcatsreturns]

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“croatdoctor65@aol.com”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“nursefirecracker@yahoo.com”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

[long-after-love]

Some personal ramblings on love/marriage

(This is actually a non-Beatles post, even though I relate this story to Lennon/McCartney, which is funny)

The other day, I learned something about my cousin. Thanks to anonymity I can tell everything here.

Let's just call him Steve and his wife Anna. An admirable, hard-working, very likable man. His wife is a beautiful and sweet lady whom I also have massive respect for. They have two beautiful children, one boy and one girl. The boy inherits his dad's quick wit and his mom's fair complexion. The girl had her father's intense eyes and her mom's gentle charm. I have never known any family that looks so pretty and wholesome, they are the sort that you see in commercials – a bit too perfect to be true. 

Steve is never really close to me, but we are on great terms when we meet. Anna likes me as well. They used to invite me to join them on family trip when I was younger. I looked after the boy and the girl, so that they could have some private couple moments. Steve was openly sweet to his wife, and Anna held his hand all the time. The kids would run around me, laughing out loud at nothing as kids would. I felt like I was watching a movie.

And just recently, everybody in my extended family was shocked to find out that Steve had an illegitimate child that he has supported in secret for more than ten years now. His mistress could not compare with Anna in any way, and the most absurd thing was he wasn't even in love with her. Now everybody are asking, "Why, Steve? Why?" and I could imagine that even Steve was unable to explain it. 

Last week, I called my sister in Australia to ask about her current situation amidst Covid-19 and of course we talked about Steve's little scandal. Here I have to provide some background about her, and my family background. She is a single mom, and she is closer to Steve than anyone in my extended family. When she divorced her husband, my parents were so against it because they thought that she was selfish and the child needed a mom and a dad. My parents were old-fashioned that way – I think they were not wrong from where they stood, back when they had my sister and me. I never thought of my parents as a very loving couple. They rarely fought, but they had zero romantic vibe. I always had the impression that they stayed married because of me and my sister, not because they were in love.

I’ve realized that my mother and my father never ever taught me about sex, and as long as I could remember they’ve never shared the same bed. They did not even have a wedding photo. I guess it was because they were very poor and could not afford to take a photo of that day, but they didn’t even have couple photo either. They had to be with someone else in any photo al all: with me and my sister, or relatives, or in a group photo of friends and acquaintances. My father is a stern, quiet man and my mother is a nurturing, traditional woman. I could understand their love and their bond, but I can’t feel it. Their love was mutually built on their devotion to their kids, aka my sister and me, so to me it was a culmination of shared responsibility, understanding, appreciation, respect and most important, mutual sacrifice. I never saw any true moment of romance between them, I have never, ever seen my parents kissing ever. 

Love and sex in my household was a taboo subject – when I was younger my parents did not want me to have a boyfriend, and then when I got older they wanted me to get married and have kids as soon as possible. 

It sounds a bit ridiculous but I discovered love through The Beatles, and their songs were, in a way, painted my outlook for love. Of course, after all these years consuming other kinds of art I’ve established for myself a far more detailed concept of love, but it is The Beatles that gave me the rough idea. Some might say they were just four young lads singing pop songs about love just like every other pop song out there – I agree with them, at the time they did, and I am sure they didn’t think much about what they were writing – they only wanted to sound good and sell a few records after all. However, I don’t think they were fully aware of their extraordinary talent and their unprecedented influence at the time – such are the stuff that only those with the gift of hindsight like us can see. The Beatles would never know that decades later their songs still changed the life of a little girl in Vietnam for good. Loving The Beatles set me apart not just from my peers then when I was 12, and in a way, I alienated myself from my surrounding because of that. I started drifting away from my parents’ influence consciously (but of course on an unconscious level they still have their influence on me), and became an aberration – not just within the household, but also later on at school or in the workplace, however, I don’t consider being different means I am special, useful, or deserve anything better. Being different is just being different.

Back to the topic of my parents, perhaps my sister felt the same way as I do – we were living in a household where any discussion of love and sex was shadow banned after all. The nearest ideal we can look up to, was Steve’s family. They were the pinnacle of success and domestic bliss. However, before this scandal happened only my sister knew that everything was far from perfect – I happened to realize that she become Anna’s close friend after her divorce. And of course, she wasn’t so surprised about Steve’s illegitimate child at all. 

Through my sister I’ve learned about Steve and Anna’s story. 

Steve and Anna were classmates, and they had been dating for more than 7 years before the marriage. It was 7 years of an on-off relationship. I don’t know anything about Anna, but Steve, at one point, fell in love with another girl (let’s call her Sarah) and even proposed to her. Sarah’s parents did not approve their relationship because they much preferred Anna, and Steve’s parents were against the idea of having Sarah as daughter-in-law as well. Now I need to tell you that I’m from an Asian country where a woman doesn’t simply get married to her husband, she marries the family of her husband as well, so many women have to live with parent-in-laws. Steve’s and Sarah’s families are way too different and they could not stand each other. Due to fierce objections from both sides, they had to break up.

Sarah was still madly in love with Steve then, that even before the wedding she came to meet Anna, and asked her to let him go. My sister told me:

“Steve said that Sarah still saw him one week before the wedding. She told Anna that Steve loved her, and he nodded. It was the worst experience in his life -  having to confront these two women about his feelings. About four or three days later, Anna called Sarah’s parents, begged them to intervene. Sarah’s father had a terrifying meeting with Steve’s family, demanded Steve to break up with Sarah for good and never see her again, because he was supposed to marry Anna and Sarah, of course, would ultimately have to marry someone else as well. After getting married to Anna, Steve had fell into depression in 3 months. He could not sleep, he got up at 3 am just to sit on the roof and smoke or take a walk outside until he had to leave home for work. Finally he got himself together, because he could not just throw his life away – he was the only son of the family and his parents had so much hope in him (once again, where I live, parents valued their sons more than daughters, and women are but a lost cause – it’s an East Asian thing especially for countries being heavily influenced by Confucian’ philosophy). He put on a façade for nearly twenty years. It’s not that he didn’t love Anna – he loves Anna because she is the mother of his kids, he admires her effort and patience, her decision to stick with him despite all the things he did behind her back. He owes her a happy family. He acts out that kind of love publicly and proudly because that is what his conscience forced him to do. On the other hand there is always a vacuum inside him, he longs for the kind of love he had with Sarah and found the ghosts of it in his affairs. The illegitimate child was his accident, he have been quietly supporting the mom and the kid – however due to Covid-19 he cannot make as much money as he could and the financial support was dwindling. The woman was furious, so she decided to expose him. However, Anna still forgave her husband, as she did many times before in silence.” 

I asked my sister if she knew what Sarah was doing now. She said she didn’t know, but according to Steve, Sarah also got married about one month after his wedding. Perhaps that deepened his depression back then, he was shocked that she could find someone so quickly – however, that was the way it should be. He deleted her number, never contacted her again. He said he wouldn’t want the present to mess with the image of Sarah in his mind, and probably Sarah had done the same thing.

Now I’ve come to a point in my life, where I believe that anything can happen. I’m not too surprised that some weird shit happened, I’m just surprised that it happened under my nose. Even in my own relationship with my partner, sometimes I don’t understand what was going on without asking for other people’s different accounts on our relationship. There are so many things we could not tell each other, but from the outside, people could feel it. Then again there are things we want people to see, however true the opposite of them are. We did not lie when we were showing how in love we were, but we were not entirely genuine either.

It is never black and white. But of course, it is also never the perfect balance of black and white or an unanimous grey.

[insertvisualinput]

Artist Asks Meme (Long Post Alert)

I took the questions from this post, and decided to just answer all of them without waiting for prompts, because... why not?

Also, apologies for the long post. I could have put all this under a cut, but I want it to show in its entirety on my blog page. I will tag from now on all posts like this under “long post”, if that is something you would like to blacklist from your dashboard.

1. When did you get into art? As soon as I could hold a pencil. Sure, I may have held it like Beast initially held his spoon in Disney’s The Beauty and the Beast feature film, lacking the finer motor skills due to me being barely out of diapers. That didn’t stop me from drawing thousand legged potatoes and trying to pass them as horses. However, I suppose art became to hold a deeper meaning to me during my last years of elementary school, and all the way through junior high. I had finally become deeply depressed due to bullying and being ostracized by my fellow children. My family was having a difficult time as a whole, and I decided to bottle everything in, thinking I’d only cause more worry otherwise. I would eventually come to harbor suicidal intentions. During that time drawing became an outlet for me to both express and process my emotions, so it naturally became an important necessity in my daily life. It may very well be that was something that ultimately gave me just about enough strength to keep moving forward. Unfortunately, l would later lose my passion to do art. I didn’t really see eye to eye with my high school art teacher, and that really ate at my love for doing art, seeing as it had always been something very closely linked to myself and my enjoyment rather than that of other people. I got tired going about my art as I was expected to. It would take years for that passion to rear its head again. So here I am now, learning everything all over again! 2. What art-related sites have you ever signed up for? I started out on Elfwood in my teens, then also signed up for deviantART. I eventually deleted both of these galleries, once I stopped making more art and checking the activity on these sites started to feel like a chore rather than something fun. Now I have a gallery on deviantART once again, which I update pretty much whenever I have the intention to put something up on Tumblr as well. But I definitely consider my dA account more of a means to keep in touch with a couple of cool people and their artistic endeavors. This Tumblr gallery I consider more my “real gallery”... for no particular reason really. 3. Show us your oldest piece of art you have on hand. FEAST THINE EYES.

This is not the oldest one I have on hand, though. That one has already been posted separately on my blog. 4. What defines your artistic style? That is ridiculously hard to answer to be honest. I experiment so much it becomes difficult even for myself to pinpoint what exactly it is that defines my style. There are certainly some recurring elements, like how my humans tend to have elongated, exaggerated bodies (which is something you can already see in that older drawing above). I suppose that’s one thing that defines my style - a type of exaggeration of proportions and lines. I don’t really give a shit about the dos and don’ts regarding how to make art. Legs for example bend in ways they shouldn’t, and it’s a purely artistic choice from my part. I think it adds a layer of expression to my work, without which the piece would be a lot more boring to look at. I suppose the fuckton of experimentation I do is also something of a defining feature in my art, but it’s more of a personal element than something others can recognize my art by. 5. Do you practice other styles/have you tried other styles in the past? Welp, I think I pretty much brushed on this already above there on question four. Yes, I do, and yes, I have. 6. What levels of artistic education have you had? I have no formal education whatsoever. Though, I did take one course at my local adult education centre. It assembled only about once a month for half a year. It was an alright course, but the teacher’s tips felt very blatantly influenced by her own personal tastes in art. I felt like I was being pushed to express myself in ways that didn’t really feel like me at all, so in the end I never showed up for the last gathering. 7. Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site. This practice picture drawn with ink didn’t make the cut mostly because I used the exact same perspective and general composition as for my Cheap Art Supply Challenge piece. But also because I am not that fond of it.

8. What is your favourite piece that you have done? A lot of times I just like the newest piece I’ve made the most, but there are certain works that hold additional value to me even when time passes. It’s been four years since I made it, but I’m still fond of this painting. It was the first time in years that I took up watercolours again, so the piece holds certain personal value to me. For that reason, I could even go as far as calling it my favourite. 9. What is your least favourite piece that you have done? I’m not sure I can decide. Not because I’d have so many not-faves, mind you! I can look back to the pieces I’ve made and think the ideas weren’t as cool as I thought back then, or that the techniques are horrible in comparison to what I’m capable of now. But I still do not really dislike them, because they remind me of how far I’ve come, where my foundations are, and which elements I decided to stick with. They remind me of the steps I’ve taken, and so I can’t really dislike them. 10. What do you like most about your art? Hmm, I think my favourite element in my art is just how unpolished a lot of it is. Like I have no qualms about leaving details vague. For example, a lot of times I draw less details on hands if the body shape is my primary interest in a piece I’m working on. Detailed works are very cool to look at, but there is also nothing wrong with leaving things to the viewer’s imagination, or leaving certain parts simple in order to encourage the viewer’s gaze to move where you want it to. 11. What do you like least about your art? I can’t really say. Despite all my artistic shortcomings, I am rather fond of it overall... Maybe just my lack of readiness to draw more diverse body types? Which is more of an occasional “Should I be doing that?” type of thought, rather than something I perspire over every time I draw and see I have once again created something of the lean and mean variety. 12. Have you ever considered taking commissions? Yes, and I have done some commission work in the past. Currently I have no particular drive to take new ones, however, as I’m more interested in experimenting different things as I see fit. 13. Are you looking to pursue a career in art? Not really. There was a time when I entertained that thought, but realistically speaking, I don’t think I’d work too well under the constant pressure of having to be as productive as possible at all times. I would quickly lose what art means to me, and with that, the joy it gives me. It’d just become another thing I must do to make ends meet. That, I do not want. 14. What do you like drawing the most? Human faces and animals are the most relaxing thing for me to draw, and looking at my sketchbooks, drawing them seems to be bordering on obsession. Other things I enjoy drawing, though less often, are unnecessarily long legs, skeletal figures, and armour.

15. What do you like drawing the least? Backgrounds. I have yet to figure out how to get them to look like they are actually part of the picture and not just their separate thing that is there. Environments overall are rather tricky for me, though I have made some brave attempts. Buildings are hard. Drawing lush vegetation is hard. Having very little patience a lot of times doesn’t encourage learning either. 16. Do you draw more fanart or original art? If fanart, what fandom do you draw the most of? Original art, which you might not guess looking at my blog here, since I started it just when I was about to go on a fanart loop for quite a few months. Wanting to draw fanart comes to me in certain intervals. Overall, however, I find it way more fun to draw whatever comes out of my head and hand, rather than following an already existing example. 17. What would you absolutely refuse to draw? Smut. It’s just not something I feel compelled to create. 18. What is your purpose for drawing? It makes me happier. I was going to go on a tangent about how it calms me and how meditative drawing is, how it gives me that feeling of having accomplished something, etc. - but what all that really boils down to is that simple statement. Drawing makes me happier. 19. What medium/program do you use the most in your art? Ink and watercolour are what I use the most by far. There’s something lovely about watching them spread and mix uncontrollably on a wet surface. Every now and then I get into the mood of trying other types of traditional media, though, like acrylic paint and oil pastels. Right now I’d really like to try my hand at encaustic painting... but getting the necessary equipment is an investment of over a hundred euros. That’s far too much for me in my current situation.

20. How would you rank your art? (poor, mediocre, good, etc.) I am sorry, but I will flat out refuse to answer this one. Ranking one’s art encourages comparison to people you admire. I am really hard pressed to see how this could be anything but toxic. 21. Do you believe there is such thing as “bad art?” Maybe. Art that never evolves anywhere, in any way, but remains absolutely stagnant? Be it on a personal level, or on a more encompassing level that challenges already existing traditions of art. On a personal level it doesn’t need to be very visible evolving either. In my mind, it’s enough if it’s something as small as “I have come to use this one colour I never before felt I could use with success.” If the question comes down to something as mundane as “Do you enjoy the art you see or do you not” being the defining element that discerns good art from the bad... Then my answer would be no, there is no such thing as bad art. I could never claim there is with good conscience, based only on my subjective likes and dislikes. 22. List at least one of your “artspirations.” Oh, I have so so many! And not all of them related to visual arts, even. But there is no point in making such a long list, so here are but a few of them: Gustave Doré and his many illustrations. I am particularly fond of the ones he made for Don Quixote and Orlando Furioso. Yoshitaka Amano. I find myself rather drawn to the elegance displayed in many of his paintings and drawings. Albrecht Dürer and his highly detailed woodcuts. Ayami Kojima and her masterful use of traditional means. She is self-taught too, which in and of itself is inspiring. Lian Quan Zhen and the beautifully lush colours in all his watercolour works. Paul Koudounaris and his absolutely gorgeous photographs of the lovingly decorated catacomb saints. (Picture below from his publication Heavenly Bodies, Thames Hudson Ltd, 2013.)

23. What do you think you could stand to improve on? Everything. I’m not really the type to stop and think I shouldn’t strive to improve more on a certain area just because I happen to like whatever I’m already doing. There are always elements I can refine, new methods of expression to test, and just plain something I could do better or at least differently enough to keep things interesting for myself. 24. Do you have a shameful art past? (recolour sprite comics, tracing art, etc.? Oh no, why end on such an embarrassing note! Cruel, cruel person, that came up with these questions. The short answer is yes. The long answer is, well, I would copy other people’s artwork, making only about just enough changes to replace the characters they drew with my own ones. Just thinking about it now makes me cringe! In case you were left wondering: None of those pictures were ever published anywhere, and have long since been burned with fire. And that’s an accurate description of what happened to them. All of them.

--- Turns out some versions of this meme also include: 25. Draw a picture! So here’s a quick pooch. Thanks for reading!

[tomatomoart-blog]

In response to a question I got asked in reference to “Swinging”

“I've been trying to get more into art and recently got my own graphics tablet. This looks amazing. How long did it take for you to get to this level? The colours are great!”

First off, Thank you!

Just a heads up, I have literally never in my life taken any form of art class except for 10 minutes in middle school. Which was a very long time ago. More on that later.

I have been using a tablet for about 3 years at this point but not for drawing. I did amateur/hobbyist photography for a few years and really enjoyed that but always wanted to learn drawing and such. I tried studying it in middle school and literally had 10 minutes of class on day one until I got a schedule change mid-syllabus talk from the counselors for some reason to do with "too many electives". I'm all self-taught through books and practice. I would say that I go through periods of practice, then no practice because I'm a full time working adult and it's tough, but when I can I try to do a little of both digital and traditional (though that's mainly just a sketchbook).

I would say I've got maybe a little less than a year of "focused" practice on it. I go through phases where I practice intently for a few weeks, then stop. Then do it again a few weeks later and stop. But all together probably about 9-12 months? Over the period of about 3 or so years. If I were more disciplined to working on it more consistently I know I would be a lot further along than I am.

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HEADS UP I'm gonna ramble about stuff because I'm on my 4th cup of coffee and haven't gotten a chance to actually talk to anyone today. So if you aren't interested beyond that, I might stop reading now. I go on to talk about myself and tips I found along the way such as materials like nibs, videos, software, and books.

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I've been photoshopping stuff for almost a decade so I know the program in and out. That certainly helped. I got a tablet about 3 years ago specifically for photo manipulation and to speed up my workflow. Adding highlights and doing composites and such but never actually drawing. My first few attempts at it were...terrifying and embarrassing. They were almost always immediately deleted. But I kept pushing. And I'm still pushing.

A few things I would recommend for the tablet though. HardFelt tip nibs. I got a 5 pack like 8 months ago for $5 and it has been such an improvement. With the default plastic nib, it's like drawing on glass with glass. The felt tip nib grabs the tablets material and offers a resistance that is closer to a pen and paper that is much easier to control. That being said, the default is also fine. I just like the felt feel. All preference.

I am incredibly biased about programs because I used every free thing under the sun for photo manipulation since I was a teen. I did gimp version 1.2. Then I learned about pirating stuff, which I don't recommend. Now you can get the latest version of Photoshop, the full thing, for 10 bucks a month. And I think Lightroom comes with it which is more for photographers, but it's the cheapest deal that they have. It is more than worth it. It's a professional grade tool that is cheeeeeeeap. Plus it'll take 5+ years of every single day use for you to "lose money" by doing the subscription instead of flat out buying it.

Using reference was probably the thing that helped me the most. I read books like The Art Spirit and Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain and they helped too. Youtubers like Proko help with people which I am still freaking struggling with. And every single one said I should be drawing from reference. Despite what I thought, most artists don't do everything straight from their brain. That was like my biggest "glass shattering" moment to me when I started out. It felt like cheating. Then I realized just how hard it was to draw even with a reference and that feeling went away veeeeery quickly.

As for colors...I'm red-green colorblind. So I go with what is in the reference usually, but I'll play it up sometimes like here. The reference is very dark and muted so I basically took what was in the photo and thought "well...that feels like it's a red instead of an almost gray so let's just pick this one" and did that for everything but the body parts. Those I just eye dropped. Cheaty, but hey I have the tool at my disposal and it got the job done well.

I learned a lot about color theory and composition from photography, but it all applies to drawing too. I used people like Scott Kelby and Jeff Cable to learn that stuff for my own pictures, but I'm sure there are plenty of other art specific people out there that teach it just as well and without the technobabble of cameras. Complimentary colors are not always the best thing to choose.

Since I am colorblind, I try to look at the total lighting value more than specific colors. I wanted a light-value feel to this so I chose lighter versions of what I wanted. Also, I don't do black outlines. It's a mental thing. Something about a pure black line feels more permanent and almost judgemental than having like a pink or a blue line. Whatever color goes with the scene. Also black doesn't usually blend in with the feeling of the picture.

I have answered a lot of questions that no one asked...I may just post this on my blog. Sorry!

Thanks for the compliments and the one question you did ask for haha