toloveandbelovedtoo

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 11: himbo warrior

A wonderful friend of mine called me a him I warrior this evening when I was telling them about my adventure to the gym. And I am so claiming that title, I am Taylor, Himbo Warrior. I am strong of arms, full of heart, and empty of thoughts. I was telling them about how today I was motivated to start going to the gym to do weightlifting and how at first, I was feeling self-conscious about my body. I felt like people were looking at me.

And the thought popped in my head saying, "I don't like me." And I immediately sputtered internally, like excuse me mister but we don't talk to ourselves this way, not in this brain. I know it was just an intrusive thought, but it made me feel anxious that I even thought it, so I wanted to do something. During my reps, I would start counting like "1 I love me, 2 I love me, 3 I love me..." And it helped, it helped me get through the sets and honestly, it kept me at a good pace. I started with arms and so I focused on what I could do with big strong arms.

I can give big bear hugs and pick up Kiwi (Dusty and Toffee are lightweight). I could carry my niece and nephew, push them on the swings and drag them in the red wagon. I can garden and draw and carry delicious food and get tattoos and I can memorize myself by watchinge flex. After I was done, I hopped into my car and part way home I just started to sing to myself loudly about how I love myself and I'm gonna be such a hot himbo with big flexing arms and I'm gonna give such good hugs and I'm so freaking cute already but I'm gonna be unstoppable.

It was different, it wasn't my usual car rides of just listening to NPR and thinking my thoughts. I was wiggling a bit, all animated, of course safely, I am a safe driver. But it makese want to go back and lift some more weights and tell myself I love me and get some nice thighs so I can wear some hoochie daddy shorts with a big ole dumptrunk. I'm in himbo mode at the moment so I'm keeping this short cause I'm head empty. Love y'all 💕

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 10: setbacks

I had a good day today and as I'm sitting here typing this out, I'm like hmmm I feel like this is working. I feel like I'm that meme of the grumpy guy with crossed arms and the next photo is his arms in the air going "I guess!" Like a goddamn I was not expecting this to work but son a of bastard look at how healed I am. I just feel full of determination and desire and want. I want to go to the gym, I want to garden, I want to flirt.

But today's focus is on setbacks and giving yourself a breath of leeway as an act of love. I had been trying to bond my rabbits Kiwi and Toffee over the winter, but I paused in February cause my head wasn't in a good place and I didn't have the energy. Today I laid on the floor in the hallway outside the rabbit room while I let Kiwi in. Toffee sniffed him and they hopped around and binkied (happy bunny dancing). Until about twenty minutes in they started to major fight with kicking and biting and scratching. I ran in shouting for them to stop and scooped up Toffee as he's the smaller of the two.

I felt bad that I hadn't given the three rabbits as much attention as they deserve. I know Dusty doesn't mind, he's not really a cuddler and is Mr. Leave Me Alone. But Toffee and Kiwi love being played with and cuddled and talked to. I hadn't tried bonding sessions in a while and they had made such good progress only for them to get into a big fight.

But the boys are uninjured except for their dignity and a little bit of fur pulled out. Kiwi is back in his hallway and Toffee is in the bunny room with Dusty (separated by a fence) and everyone got dinner and dessert. They'll cool off and tomorrow is a new day to start the bonding process again. It'll start out slowly, putting Toffee in Kiwi's hallway and letting them hang out for a half hour. I'll do this every other day for a couple of weeks before I let Kiwi go into Toffee's space. I'll try to do a little bonding with Dusty not to bond them, Dusty is a loner boy, but to at least get Dusty to stop trying to instagate fights.

There's no use in beating myself up for their fight and my pause in their bonding. No one was hurt and everyone is okay. I think it is an act of love to look at the setback I have come to, give space to feel upset or frustrated or mad about the setback, I can feel emotion about the setback, but I don't want to judge myself and punish myself for it. It's the same elsewhere, maybe forgetting to shower for a few days, or taking my protein, or keeping track of medication. I can feel sad and bad that that happened. But I'm not going to say I'm a failure for not keeping up.

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 9: romanticizing life

I remember one evening a few years ago, my roommate and I were sitting in the living room when one of us, I can't remember who, got excited about the colors in the sunset sky. This was always something I enjoyed in the evenings was getting to come home to our third floor apartment (not so much the walk up though) and seeing the sunset from our west facing balcony. I do miss that apartment, it was such a nice place.

But that evening he and I were talking as we watched the sunset and he told me he appreciated having me in his life because I helped him enjoy the all things. I had helped him find joy in things that happen daily like sunsets, like morning coffee, like candles that we kept lit on the coffee table. They're all everyday aspects of our lives, but to me, I look to the sky to see a cloud shape I'll not see again, to see the new patterns the sun paints that night, how does this candle smell tonight with the mix of smells from the kitchen, my perfume, the air from outside. Everything changes even if it's a constant like the sun and the moon and clouds.

I had gone out at lunch time to the grocery store to get something to eat and ended up grabbing a few extra items like strawberries and blackberries that were on sale and the some dehydrated kiwi and a bag of freeze dried peach slices. I saw the peaches on an end cap and last minute grabbed a package because I thought it was cute. I'm a sucker for good package design. When I got home, I placed some of the berries in these new ceramic berry containers that I had gotten in a subscription box that wow, I've have for six years now.

But that was made me reflect on today, was the idea of romanticizing life and enjoying the little and small to the grand and huge. I got to see Venus and Jupiter sparkling brightly in the sky the last couple of nights and got to see the moon shine so full. My wildflower seeds I tossed outside are popping up and even now I'm wearing my cat ear headphones as I write this. I thought how I wanted to add things to my home like a jar of matches I have to strike to light a candle or a coffee mug shaped like a flower. I want whimsy, I want cute, I want to find joy in getting to strike a match against the container and watch it come to life.

I think about what I already have an appreciate the joy it brings me like the fluffy bison ottoman in my bedroom, the little hummingbird figurine that hangs from the taller coffee table that you can only see from the brown couch, the bedsheets on my rabbits' beds match my bedsheets. There's the bucket of like 30 rubber ducks that I bring out occasionally for bath time and the little gold koala that climbs the stalk of my golden pothos. Even my tattoos. I have a frog teapot and a cartoon Shiba Inu from a phone game that I've never played, but I love him so much with his little hat and overalls.

I want to find joy and awe and beauty in everything, but moreso I want to find heart and emotion in different aspects of my life. I'm happy I can cry, I'm happy I can feel sadness, I'm happy being able to give space to that. Because it reminds me I'm whole. I'm human. I am more than my skills and what I have to offer, I'm more than sunshine and rainbows, and more so, I'm allowed to be sad, messy, angry, tired, everything my mother wouldn't let me be. I find comfort in the crack in the plastic in this new picture frame I got, the water stains on my coffee table, the way my childhood teddy bear has holes and missing his nose.

Because to me, that's me. The painting in the frame is still beautiful regardless of it's crack, my coffee table holds so much and looks well loved, Bobo is definitely well loved and has traveled the world with me. I have my scars, the lines on my body that tell a story, I have things that I don't like like my weight or my chest. I know I have flaws, I have made mistakes and fucked up, I have hurt people I love, I have said the wrong words, and I haven't given myself the self-love and appreciate all that I am. But even with my flaws, my mistakes, the errors of my past, I'm still so beautiful, so loved, so full of love to give, so worthy of where I am and who I am and all that I have and can be.

In a way, I want to romanticize the things around me because I want to find joy and delight in the world and in myself. Growing up, it was all about appearing perfect. Even though my parents were divorced, we were expected to be picture perfect. The three kids who was supported by their martyr of a mother and siblings to a moderate to highly neirodivergent sibling. We were to look clean even though I had insanely bad dandruff as a child that left my scalp bleeding and hair greasy and my step mom said I was smelly when she first met me. We were to have the best grades, all the after school activities, the best clothes.

I remember being so controlled, I wasn't allowed to dye my hair, I had to bleach my mustache, I had to pluck my chin hairs, I could only wear Old Navy. I wasn't allowed to be around my older sister when she went through her punk phase because our mother knew we were close then and still are now. I couldn't wear the color yellow because my mother hated it. I had to call my mother when I was 19 and wanted to get my second set of ear lobe piercings to get permission. I was put on Atkins when I was 12 and my mother told me to stay away from certain kids who were too queer, despite her saying she supports LGBT students.

So now I look to the little details that catch the eye, I love the color yellow, I line my arms with tattoos because they make me feel gorgeous and they remind me to enjoy the whimsical and to romanticize life not as a way to avoid hard feelings and look through rose tinted glasses, but as a way to find the beauty in everything whether it's a sad beauty or joyous one. I want to find joy and be in the moment, I don't want to go through life feeling mundane. I have gone through it so much controlled and restricted and now I want messy, I want colors, I want details, I want imperfections, I want to be present.

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

This map is the most up to date version as of 3-4-2023 and takes into account all recent movement on anti-trans legislation

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

pouty faces turned smiley faces <3

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Zukka for the soul, I just really wanted to draw them in some nice detailed clothes for fun.🔥🌊

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

a bitchy sokka for expression practice :)

(do not repost)

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 8: taking a break

Today I did not go forward thinking about love in my day and that's okay, I'm giving myself this break as an act of love it's been seven days of hard work. I slept in and was a few minutes late to work, my car wouldn't start, I had back to back meetings and endless calls. I ordered Korean friend chicken, emailed my therapist, got my car inspected and it's working fine, and I did a face mask. Today was a day of rest.

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 7: tears

This one is coming a little early today. Its been a week since I started this exploration and there's been so many emotions and feelings each day. Saturday I felt exhausted, I felt done, I didn't want to feel like this anymore and was fighting with my head that we needed to keep going, that this pain and discomfort was temporary. Sunday I felt so anxious in that yoga class and holding onto so many emotions that I've been working through the last however long.

I had feelings of understanding on Sunday. Understanding that I am worthy of love, that I am loved, I felt that love that I receive from so many people. I expressed my understanding and feelings to my friends that day. I didn't cry on Saturday and managed to get a little out on Sunday. I knew there was going to be a big release and I think there will be many more as I continue down this path of healing. Right now I'm laying in my bathroom my head resting on a squishmallow and covered in a small blanket while I hold a seal stuffie. I cried a lot before writing this and I'm shaking as I type.

I felt anxious for the last few hours, thinking I was responsible for someone's own sad emotions. I was worried I had hurt someone I care for and trying to think of how to fix it and make it better. The person never expressed to me that I was the cause of anything they were feeling. As far as I'm aware, I haven't done anything to claim responsibility for my actions and I know that I can't make assumptions, I have to wait until someone tells me something I did or said hurt them.

Growing up, I felt like I was responsible for the emotional well-being of the people around me. I needed to ensure my mother was happy, because if she was happy then the house could be at peace. I had to make sure my twin was happy, because if she wasn't, she might physically hurt herself. I carried that weight on my back to ensure my house was okay. Sometimes my twin would cry and talk about wanting to die, so I would walk us to the library a few miles away because if we were there, then we would be safe. My mom wasn't home in the afternoons or evenings, often I wouldn't see her until bed time so I was the parent.

I remember going to the bathroom to shower and I would sit on my knees hunched over as the water hit my back. I would cry and sob to myself, telling myself that I'm a good person, that I'm a good daughter, that I'm trying so hard, and that all I want to be is to be loved. I still do that from time to time, I remember crying a few months ago just saying out loud that all I want is to be loved. And logically, I know I am loved. There are so many people in my life that love me, but because of how I grew up, it's taken me so long to really understand what that feels like. I'm scared of losing all that I built and I won't be strong enough.

I'm sharing this photo of me crying not because I'm looking for attention or sympathy, though if y'all have pet photos I would be glad to see those. I wanted to show me at my most vulnerable, to show a side of me that I don't let people see. I've always been smiles and radiating energy, I've always tried to be like sunshine, warm, bright, happy. But that not always me, that's a part of me, but I'm also grumpy, I get sad, I get annoyed with client calls, I hate standing in lines, I cry a lot and Im not always strong. Sometimes I just want to be taken care of and I don't want to feel guilty for asking for that.

A friend and I were talking the other day about therapy and life and he had mentioned that what it seems I'm looking for is to be seen. I want my abuse acknowledged, I don't want to have to hide it away and sort of "move on" from it. I hate the idea of saying well that happened, but let's go heal and move forward because I want to sit in that mud and just be sad about it for a bit. I think there's a part of healing that isn't really visible or recognized and that just getting to hold your muddiness and give it space and getting to be sad.

I hated the idea an ex-friend had told me about "suck it up buttercup" because I want to confront my past, I want to look at it and be seen and hold it for a moment so then I can get all the feelings out that I never had the chance to in the past. I don't want people to say, oh Taylor he's so brave he's a survivor look at how amazing he's doing. I don't want to always be strong. I want to be sad, I want to be weak, I want to let my inner child cry so that adult Taylor can grow where he could not previously.

I cried today because I was scared I wasn't a good person, that everything I was working for was going to come crumbling beneath me. I was scared my friends would leave me as some had done before, I was scared that none of this was going to work out. I'm still scared, this is all new territory for me to be so open like this and to put it all out on display. It's so new to think about what a healthy love feels like and to just let myself be vulnerable, visible, and receptive to love. I'm scared as I strengthen my foundation with these new bricks.

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 6: simplicity

Today was a bit of a toughy to try to think about love and engage in it. I wanted this 30 day experience to not have strict rules or guidelines knowing that you just don't know what could happen in your day. Some days are going to be busy, some are not, some have heavy things happen and others are chill. Today was my first day back at work and I learned I took a good week off as they were just slammed last week.

Today was about being simple, not pushing myself to try to make up for being out for a week by trying to take up more cases than I could handle. It was about easing myself into work, seeing what happened, what new things I needed to know, take whatever calls I get, and clean up my backlog. It meant going through my inbox, finishing that company wide survey and being very honest about it. I kept things simple, did a little cleaning when I felt like getting out of my chair, moving my car when a tow truck person asked if I could do he could gain access to another car, running the dishwasher.

Today was head empty and not pushing myself or being hard on myself and that in itself is an act of love. I didn't feel guilty for taking the week off, I didn't feel bad that I wasn't there when shit hit the fan at work. I didn't try to atone by overworking myself. I took my calls, I worked my open cases and by the end of the day, I came out with 12 accepted calls, 16 closed cases, and a freshly organized backlog. Could I have done more? Probably, but I already went over my numbers of 8 a day.

Today was about doing small simple things that I could do. A tattoo artist I have gotten a lot of work from posted to her instagram stories asking for healed pics, so I sat up in bed and snapped a few and sent them over. I saw a TikTok video of a young lady talking about her mother passing recently, how she might have to move in with her abusive father, and her small business she's been working on since 2016 wasn't getting a lot of orders. So I put an order in and left a tip because I know what that's like. I remember being fresh out of college, little money, no job and the possibility of having to move home with my mother.

So today was about simple acts of love, and the love of keeping it simple. Doing acts of kindness where the reward is so much greater than the actual effort. It took not even five minutes to move my car or message my tattoo artist and last week was pay day, so I had money to spend on some bath goodies. I deeply believe in karma and the idea that acts of kindness are some of life's greatest reward. I remember my days of hustling and scraping by, I remember stealing food, dumpster diving, and when I thought $256 was expensive rent.

If I could take five minutes to help someone, then I will. It's five minutes of my day, but it means something so much more to someone else. For me that was my roommate making me Eggo waffles after I came home from the ER after a bad panic attack. It was the friend who walked me from one class to the next to make sure I got there because I pulled an all-nighter and was dizzy. It was the clementine a different classmate offered me in class cause I hadn't eaten that day. It was the fairy wand and dollar store faux hair extension a different roommate brought to me when I was home sick.

These probably weren't a big task to these people, something simple. But to me it meant so much. It was an act of caring and kindness and made my day better. It's something I remember even though most of those things happened 7 to 8 years ago. So today, I think about the act of love being something simple. Something easy, that to you, it wasn't something you probably didn't give a lot of thought to, but to the receiver, it meant so much.

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 5: connection

Wow... Today was... Wow. Not what I was expecting. Like at all. I was having some trouble with myself and thoughts late last night and feeling so uncomfortable in this exploration, but knowing it was because I was outside my comfort zone and this is all just so new feeling. As I was showering, I thought to myself, I should go out to this yoga studio I like that offers their classes for free to trans people. My therapist had mentioned taking in person classes and I finally remembered to look up the classes.

I found one for today called Yoga Nidra, or sleeping yoga and I thought, hell yeah, I like the idea of getting to lay on my back with a blanket and listen to a meditation and singing bowls. I went in a bit nervous cause it's a new location with unknown people, but I wanted to stop being such a hermit and get out of my house more. I had laid down on the mat, thrown the blanket over me, and placed this bean bag thing over my eyes. I laid with a bolster under my knees and palms up as I listened to the teach guide the class through relaxing the body piece by piece.

She had guided us to imagine being in different locations, I can't remember the first location, but she had us imagining being at the edge of a pond facing a sunset. It was in that time I felt like I had sunken into my body and a flood of emotion overtook my body. It felt like a flood of cold, my body was shaking, and I felt so anxious. She told us then to imagine the moon and I tried to think about the moon and the craters and shadows, but my thoughts kept going back to fear, to this feeling of not wanting to dying, to being so scared because I was feeling so much.

I repeated to myself that I was Taylor. I was laying in a building in my city that is in my state and that I was going to be okay. I opened my eyes but they were still covered by the eye mask, but the slivers of light they peaked through grounded me. The practice ended with us rolling onto our sides then sitting up and as I was folding my blanket, I saw a giant palmetto bug making a bee line to me a few inches from my mat. My body was loose and my limbs weren't cooperating with me, but the teacher caught it in a jar and took it out. I think about that bug, one of the ones that creep me out and maybe it was there for a reason.

I was feeling so anxious and shaky after the session and I didn't feel like I could go home just yet. The yoga teacher had explained beforehand that she was also a therapist and she would spend some time after class in the lobby if anyone wanted to talk. I sat down in a chair and wait for the other student to leave and when she did, I asked the teacher if she would sit with me because I wasn't okay. I felt like crying, I did cry, and she stayed with me while I let that emotion out. We did a breathing exercise and I explained to her what I felt and how I felt it was related to this exploration that I was doing, the release of all that I was holding.

I had this beautiful moment with a stranger that I had asked for help, I gave myself that space to allow a stranger see me be scared and vulnerable and it was an act of love for myself to ask for something I need as well as an act of love to receive that care from someone I didn't know. She explained to me the therapeutic uses of yoga nedra and how it releases emotions that we have been carrying and I told her about the practice I felt was similar that my therapist I do to explore what emotions feel like when I give them the space and honor their presence.

I went home after getting a milkshake from Cook-out and tried to lay down to allow those feeling space, but I ended up in the bathroom listening to Encanto's soundtrack while I journaled what I was feeling. The bathroom is a safe space for me, a place where I could go to cry and be emotional without anyone hearing me. I would turn on the shower and cry and I don't really know if the shower and fan drowned out my cries, but it helped. And half way through writing, it just all felt like I understood what I was trying to do by undertaking this project.

That I am worthy not despite my flaws and broken bits, but because they are apart of my whole being. I am worthy of love and being loved and giving love because I'm Taylor, I don't have to be anything else, I don't have to make myself smaller, or quieter, or easier to handle, I am loved for my true being. And sure, I think those that tried to minimize me and make me feel smaller loved me, but not in a way that was healthy, sustainable, and was twinged with toxic believes and actions. I saw myself the way my friends I have now saw me and that I didn't have to have a skill or a service to offer them, I was just loved for being me.

I feel like a butterfly crawling out of my cocoon after being caterpillar goop and I'm learning to look and love my new wings, to let them open and flourish them, to feel the wind around them as I try to take off. I was having a lot of emotions recently after having a really tough 2022, after feeling burned out from work, after doing some heavy trauma healing work the last few months, but especially the last couple of weeks. There was a lot I needed to unleash and that yoga practice helped. I feel scared, but I feel hopeful.

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

zuko + A3 😄

yeah hm, this happened

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

WE FOUND IIIIIIIIIT OMG Me and some people have been searching for this image for a couple months now xD Woke up to see someone found it and told me! So happy! Thanks @naariel!

To all my artist friends, this one’s for you <3 

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

choose your goose

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 4: hunger

I'm exhausted as I write this one. I had spent most of the day with my sister and her two kids who are almost 2 and 4.5 years old. We had gone to a plant nursery after I had run some errands to the Walgreens and a very overstimulating boba place before I got there. My nephew had thrown a few tantrums as kids do, we had gardened in the backyard, and I ran around playing a bunch of games.

By the time I left after just 4.5 hours, I was tired, exhausted, and hungry but I had to make the drive back to my house which was going to be a 30 minute drive. I felt so out of it today, just not fully there at times and while I was driving home, I felt so sad and anxious. I wanted to cry and even as I write this, I still do a bit and I might. I remember thinking about this problem I had in my head, the feeling of losing a community, being upset that I didn't feel interested in anything, and how frustrated I was with my emotions.

It was about half way home when I was thinking about giving my sadness and frustrations space, and trying to not think if there was a cause to any of it. Because sometimes there's not really a cause for feeling sad or upset, but I'm still figuring out that space in between finding a cause versus sometimes you just feel whatever for no reason. I think maybe it's the ease and quickness to it? If it takes a lot of probing and nothing comes up, then it's just one of those days if that makes sense?

Anywho, I digress. I had realized that this project in being vulnerable and open and exploring love amongst the other emotions was just an all over new experience and I was outside my comfort zone, so I felt frustrated and sad and I uncomfortable with where I was and everything just felt so off because I am experiencing my space through new lenses and new tools. I remember talking with a few friends a few months ago about how I felt like I was in a metamorphosis, at that time I described being the caterpillar goop. But now I'm the newly hatched butterfly and I'm learning about my new body and wings.

This is a lot to be so open, so visible, so myself with so many people to see me and my thoughts. It's not to say that it invalidates my feelings of a lost community that I was experiencing and feeling my lost of interest, but the way and intensity that they were sitting in my head and heart felt so much louder and messier and intense than I would have normally felt. I remember walking in my door and just feeling so tired and wondering when this was all going to feel normal again and just wanting to feel okay and wanting to be okay and worried that I was spiralling into something dark and concerning.

I sat in my bed eating the arepas I got from Guasaca on the way home and after eating and laying down, I realized how exhausted I was. My eyes feel heavy, my body feels sore, and after some time of just laying in bed doing a word game, I came back to my feelings and saw they had shifted. I felt more stable, I felt like I wasn't spiralling, I felt more in my skin. So I realized I might have just been hungry since it was 7:30pm when I ate and I last ate at 10am. Again, not to invalidate my feelings and thoughts, but it explains the intensity.

I feel like this day was harder to see the love, I'm struggling with my emotions today and this feeling of being exposed and open with so many people. I know I want to keep doing this, I want to learn how to love myself, how to love, and how to be loved. I want to know that I matter to others, that it's not something I have to convince myself is true. I want to learn that I am loved for my goodness, my flaws, my whole being and that I can be messy, I can make mistakes, I can be dumb, loud, forgetful, different, and funny, silly, sweet, kind and just be me. I'm learning to flap my new wings and the wind feels scary but it feels so worth it.

[toloveandbelovedtoo]

Day 3: practice

I had to think about today, since starting this and thinking about love, I think about how to practice and integrate it in my day. I had gone to Backyard BBQ for lunch and as I was leaving, I realized it would have been a good opportunity to pay for someone's meal. I think about it when I hold a door open for someone or when it's held for me. I thought about love when my neighbor offered my some plant clippings and when I laid on the floor with Kiwi.

But today I want to make it a continuation of yesterday as art has been on my mind lately. I woke up still feeling grumpy and disgruntled by my art practice. It's a gray day, cloudy outside but not really raining and I felt tired. I got the idea then to go back to basics. I'm a digital artist, pretty much all of my work is done on my iPad and I mostly work on big pieces with coloring and shading and the whole deal. And while that's great and my art has developed with each piece, I need to do the work all people do: basics and fundamentals.

I'm a self-taught artist. I had a phone with a stylus and one night in bed I thought, I want to draw. So I started going to town drawing people, doing the line art, the coloring, the shading, each piece was a full completed piece. My art was not that great two years ago, I definitely learned a lot and gotten so much better with spacing and proportions. But I realized that I should put in the work and practice of doing timed figure drawings, doing doodles, making sketches, and practicing the anatomy, the clothing, the background basics.

I grabbed some pencils and paper I bought a few years ago and posted up on my couch where I went through timed poses. I got 90 seconds with each figure and just went to drawing as much as I could before the time was up. Some poses were definitely more difficult than others, but I had fun. Fun! That was something I felt like was missing from my art yesterday and that I just wanted to have fun. I feel like I fell in that trap in fandom where I needed to be producing completed works and my worth was based on what I could produce and how often. I lost the joy.

And I realize now that some of my art block stems from the need to be instantly perfect. Perfection was demanded by my mother, each of us kids were gifted and talented, we didn't need practice, we didn't make mistakes. Whatever we picked up, we were supposed to know how to do it with little instruction. I am the sort-of-youngest of four (I'm a twin) and it always looked like my two older siblings were amazing at everything they did. My brother was a marching band science genius, my sister was the artist and musician. I stayed in the shadows in technical theatre.

I didn't know how to ask for help, or how to ask someone to teach me x, y, or z. My grades were to be A+ in school and when I, the son of a math teacher, was getting a D in calculus, I was yelled at for not asking for help. It was shameful that I needed a tutor to get through chemistry and that I couldn't keep up with my peers in school who were already going to college for math as they had completed all the courses the school system offered.

I would find myself getting frustrated with hobbies. When I was in middle school, I thought I would make jewelry, but I felt my work wasn't as good as my mom's or sister's. I learned to knit and was great at it, but it got boring after a while. I learned to crochet, sew, needlepoint. I tried an instrument but I'm fairly tone deaf and can't read music. I picked up hobbies easily and mastered a lot quickly, I was great at knitting, origami, gardening, and video gaming.

So I realized that's why I was getting so frustrated with art. I could see I have talent and potential, I love getting to draw bodies and explore what it means to be trans and queer through art. I love making my blorbos kiss. One of my favorite things is to draw from fan fics to surprise writers, it makes my heart warm to see their excitement. And so it's okay to not be good at everything at once. What was that Jake quote from Adventure Time? Sucking is just the first step to getting good at something? So I'm giving myself this act of love of learning my craft and hobby by working on lessons and the basics and fundamentals.