Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee

Since yesterday's post was kinda depressing, I decided to post today, now that I'm happier, to balance it out.

I read a lot of Webcomics, and this fact has given me a tremendous advantage. Because even though I wasn't drawing my whole life, I was usually reading the blog posts of the artists. So I know artsy things!

Unfortunately, this means sometimes I hear about some kind of technology they have, and I bemoan my lack of it. Artists have some seriously cool tech sometimes.

Like those computers where you can draw on the screen with one of those special pens? Oh my god. So sexy. I want one.

However, I have no idea what it's called,  and it's probably incredibly expensive. Theoretically, you could do the same thing on an iPad with your finger-- I have a couple of apps that let you draw on them and stuff-- but I have to zoom in a lot. And of the two apps I have that do this (which were, compared to most apps, incredibly expensive themselves) only give you one size of document. Sure, you can crop it and stuff. But the point is, it's kind of unwieldy for what I wanted to do.

Plus, there's the whole matter of me sucking at drawing on the computer.

I know I've said this before, but it frustrates me to no end. Because of the way I sort of taught myself to draw (which was doodling stuff randomly) my style didn't need to be very clean. Because on paper, I can do it in a way that still looks good.

But on the computer, I can't really do that. Because I can zoom in and see every tiny flaw in amaaaazing detail. Then I try to fix it, and it's really obvious I tried to fix it.

Plus, on the computer, I always feel like I should do, you know, color and shading and folds and stuff. Which I never really learned to do. >_>

The joys of having no formal training whatsoever.

I mean, sure there are people who are self-taught who are still really good and stuff. But that's because they always took their art seriously. I didn't really do that-- art was just a fun thing I liked to do. And I always figured I wouldn't be good enough to play with the big boys, so I never tried really hard to learn and perfect and make it gorgeous. I just dicked around to pass the time and have some fun.

So going from "well, I doodle and stuff sometimes" to the realm of Serious Artists (which I kind of think is hilarious sometimes) makes me really nervous. Some of the Serious Artists are also really snobby, so I've always liked to poke fun at them in my head.

Gah. I actually have to work hard at art now. So weird.

I kind of hope that the Art College I pick will have a vibe like my drawing class next quarter will. I know the professor, and I've actually taken his class before-- I just couldn't finish it due to a really severe illness-- so I know it's a good atmosphere. Dale (he tells us to call him that) is really nice and relaxed and--

OH MY GOD I'M A DUMBASS. Why didn't I think to ask the Professor about Art College recommendations?!

Wow. Why the hell didn't I think of that before?

Bah. Oh well. I thought of it now.

Well, this should be interesting.

Ups and Downs of life

I've been thinking a lot about drawing. And it occurred to me that at my skill level, doing those basic storyboards for animated films would be possible. I could maybe look for an unpaid internship for something like that. This idea got me all excited, that I could start drawing for money NOW instead of going through 4 years of art school first.

Only one problem: all the internships like that are in California.

I guess it makes sense, since that's where Hollywood is. Unfortunately that means not so much on the internships.

Now, if this were a movie of my life instead of my actual life, here's what I would do: drive down to California, get some shit job like washing dishes to pay the rent. I would keep applying, keep looking, and just when I was about to pack up and go home, I would magically get my Big Break.

Unfortunately, life doesn't really work like that. So, more likely: art school that costs a friggin' fortune for four years, then I finally get to start looking for jobs. Woo.

What got the former idea to play around in my head in the first place, is I was watching the director of Ratatouille talk about how he got in, and he said he made an animated short (which apparently he finished at fourteen years old)and when he sent it to Disney, they basically said, "hey the next time you're in LA there's a job for you."

I grew up spending more time watching movies than talking to people, so I've only recently realized that these kinds of stories are basically fairy tales. Sure, they happen, but the reason they're remarkable is that they hardly ever happens that way. I've decided to call this way of thinking "Hollywood Logic"; in a perfect world, it would work. Or if I was just really, really lucky. (Actually, if I were really lucky, I would have just grown up in California.)

Well, I guess it's just as well-- I'm more interested in Illustration. I just latched onto the idea because then I might be able to, you know, start sooner.

That being said, if there's a deity listening: considering all the crap I've been through so far, do you think you could give me some sort of, y'know, luck? A leg up? It would be nice.

Life has been hard, primarily because of the Asperger's, but also because of other stuff. And after all that, it kind of feels like Whoever Runs The Universe owes me. Or that it should balance out somehow, because life was so shitty before, it should be really awesome later.

But probably, everyone feels that way to some extent. (Or everyone in America, at least.) We all feel like we've worked hard and deserve to be rewarded with more than we're getting. And that's part of being human: we always want more. The trick to being happy is, I guess, learning to enjoy what we have.

I try to live by that, but when I hit these little mini depressive episodes, it can be really, really hard. (No, I'm not bipolar, and medications wouldn't help me with this.)

Oh well. Whatever it is, though, I'll live through it.

In the mean time, I should watch Mulan or something to put me in a better mood.

I MADE VIDEO BLOGS!

I made 3 vlogs (video blogs) about my trip to the Cornish Arts & Design open house; Before, During, and After. I thought that the readers who haven't seen my face before might like it, and for the rest of you, well, I dunno.

But hey, it's a video blog! Cool, right?

Before:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9N6iwv871c


During:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0n1KfBXWpI&feature=plcp


After:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=euOaVN_kkuY&feature=plcp



I'm sorry about the awful angles and sound. And eye contact, but that can't really be helped.

Let me know if this is a cool way of keeping up with my blog. If people like it, I will continue.

Laters!

Return of the EEEEEEEEEEEEE

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!


Okay, now I feel better. I needed to get that out of my system.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I've been doing a lot of thinking today, and I worked through one of the larger worries I've had looming over me.

One of the (many) anxieties that has been running laps in my brain is the thought that maybe I'm not really an Artist, because there were long periods of time in my life when I wasn't drawing. The reason and "artist" is capitalized and the reason I was worried about it are one and the same: Artists are a kind of clique, like Writers, or Goths, or Electroneurodiagnostic Technologists.

I don't know if most people realize it, but pretty much everything you do, you ARE part of a clique. You might become part of a group based on something physical: skin color, hair color, clothing style (which is complicated enough to melt my brain), whatever. Or your type of career: Healthcare Worker, Government Employee (ew), Firefighter, IT, whatever. Or about a million other things I could name, but I won't, because that would take a really long goddamn time.

I call cliques "tribes" in my head because it's fitting and the word itself explains why we do it in the first place: we want to be part of a group. We feel safe that way, accepted on a basic human level (it's actually on Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, in case you think I'm full of crap). Plus, we get to feel superior to those who aren't One Of The Tribe.

Of course, The Tribe can be subdivided into other kinds of Tribes. Holey cheese, what is it about human beings that we need to make things so incredibly complicated? 

So, back on topic: Artists are one of the many kinds of tribes. And now that I want to go into an artistic field, I was kind of wondering whether I would be accepted as an Artist. (Which would really help me get along with my colleagues.) Or whether I even consider myself an Artist. I mean, unlike a lot of (if not most of) people who go into creative fields, I am not 100% head-over-heels in love with drawing. I love drawing, but not as extremely as some folks are.

But I finally figured out why. Drawing is my special interest, but I learned a long time ago that if I let myself get sucked into it completely, I wouldn't be able to function very well in the rest of life. Because I'm on the Spectrum, I use up a lot of energy doing all the rest of life. The normal stuff, like school, chores, my social life, etc, are hard for me. So in order to do well enough to pass for normal, (which has been my main focus since I found out I have Asperger's Syndrome, and before that I wasn't even functional anyways) I have to devote a lot of thought to them. So I kind of had to push drawing to the side. I had to kind of push my Special Interests into a corner in order to get by.

But if my job, and therefore a large portion of my life, actually revolved around my special interest(s), then I wouldn't have to shove them in a corner.

Which would be wonderful.

I've been worried about whether I would stop finding art fun after doing it 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. (Or more!) And based on this train of thought, I think the answer will end up being no; it'll still be fun. Sure, there might be days I come home thinking oh my god, I never want to draw again. But I doubt that will be every day. I might not wake up thinking "oh boy, I get to go to work today!" But I probably won't learn to hate it either.

Granted, this is all speculation... And between thinking about it and then writing this up, I've used up an hour I could have been doing one of the gajillion other things I need to do... And this doesn't actually change much...

But it makes me feel a lot better. So I'm not going to feel guilty about it. (Yes, I really am that hard on myself.)

I guess sometimes it's helpful to just think about things.


On a completely unrelated note: my legs still kind of hurt from running. And the next two runs are going to utterly suck: 

1. 5 minute warm up walk, 8 minute jog, 5 minute walk, 8 minute jog, 5 minute cool down walk.
2. 5 minute warm up walk, 20 minute jog, 5 minute cool down walk.

I'm going to diiiiieee...


Another random thing: one of these days, I will do the following:

1. Make a list of all the Tribes I fit into,
2. Do research on various animals and see which fits my personality the best,
3. Make a list of all the things I eventually want to do. (Like this list, only a lot longer...)

Those first two would be interesting, and the last would be helpful and possibly interesting.

Of course, when I will do these things, I have no idea... But it never hurts to write it down. The Upcoming Holidays would be a good time to get it done.

Meh, whatever. For now, I have some things to do, so later!

The Road Not Taken.

I literally stumbled onto the perfect analogy for Asperger's and Autism while I was running today.

Unsurprisingly, running on (human) trails is harder than running on pavement. There are rocks and roots you can trip on, it's wet, has random hills and valleys, and there's really no telling where it leads next, unless you've traveled it before.

Well, that's like most of life for me.

Neurotypicals run on paved areas. Ones that they know are safe, because others have done it. And often, there are other people that travel with them-- so they don't feel lonely, and so they lend each other a helping hand.

That's not what life is like for me. I wake up every morning having pretty much no idea what the day will be like. It could be fairly easy, or it could be uphill all the way.

And no one else really travels with me-- no one else has made the exact same journey. There might be people along the way who have similar experiences, maybe even every now and then someone who has very similar experiences, but no one can tell me where to go. When I reach a fork in the road, I just have to guess. I might have clues to help me, or I might not. It's a crapshoot.

Okay, yeah, some of that is just LIFE. But it's a lot harder for me, because of the Asperger's.

What's amazing is, there are actually harder ways to get around-- following animal trails, or even no trail at all. And that's what life must be like for lower-functioning people on the Spectrum. My heart goes out to them for that.

However, there is something that makes some of the blood, sweat, and tears worthwhile. Maybe you've heard this before:

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 

Robert Frost


Lately, I've been finding out that people like me. That they think I'm interesting. And I think that this is why: I took the road less traveled by. (Hee, it rhymes. I should write a poem about it someday.) I have unusual thoughts and opinions, and I think people are drawn to that. (Plus, some people think I'm just rebellious, deliberately defying the rules instead of not knowing them.)

Plus, I've been through a hell of a lot, and I've always worked hard. Much harder than most people think. So when I hit paved road (what I'm good at), after traveling trails most of the time, I take off like a fucking bullet!

So maybe it's not so bad, in the end. Things have begun to balance out, finally.

And that makes all the difference.

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The Road Not Taken (c) Robert Frost. The rest of the blog post (c) Ilsa Kasmar.