#but also weird reality altering existential dread

[inspiredrawaw]

I got like 2 new Myrvin songs and that being Tip Toes by half alive showing Myrvins character growth and End World normopathy by Ghost as a song that could play in a new version of Starry Orchard I’m cooking up

Which I’m now taking inspiration from Dimension 20 NeverAfter so like >:D

[the-fox-populi-says]

I don't often write long personal stuff on this blog. But the past month I've been confronted with a very odd privilege I wasn't really aware of. Apparantly, I am a natural hermit. I was alone a LOT as a child. I always found ways to entertain myself. People have told me before they found it sort of odd and/or remarkable that I manage to get out of bed and do stuff every day, on my own, from home, despite not making much money of the stuff I do. I always sort of shrugged it off. I like making things. Occassionally I sell things. Not a very steady income, though. My partner's income makes sure I don't starve. Which I sometimes feel guilty about, but that's not the point here. I was aware of my privilege in that department already. No, this new one... is about self-motivation. About boredom. Whatever I may have expected this pandemic to reveal... this wasn't it. I fundamentally do not understand boredom.

I will try to phrase this in a way that doesn't upset people (I know this is tumblr, so it's probably futile, but still). This is not an accusation to anybody. This is a personal observation, a reality I've been living in, but never really noticed. Not to this extent, at least. People... need structure. I know that. I do too. People are social. I know that. I am too. But still I was not prepared to see this many people react this badly to isolation. If you're stuck with people you don't like, of course. If you have a teensy little living space with no balcony or garden, of course. If you're worried about your health or those of close friends/relatives, of course. If you are touch-starved, of course. If your job/business is at risk, of course. If you are already struggling with depression, an eating disorder, a disability or are otherwise dependant on people taking care of you, of course. If you're very extraverted and can't stand being alone, of course. If you're a huge workaholic/completely exploited so you have no idea what to even do with free time, of course. If you suddenly get like 5 times the responsibility/ work load/ risk exposure because of your job, of course. If you have no money to get materials to fill your time with, of course. If you have little means of connecting with others such as a working internet device, of course. But then I see people, close friends even, with no friends or family at risk, no personal (mental) health issues, a secure job, living with a loving partner, in a spacious home, who have hobbies, and a safe place to go outside, an online continuation of their job so structure is still pretty much there, often even have a work room/study so they can still sort of separate work & private, some of them are even used to working from home already... And they are still climbing the walls. These same people who always want to have holidays. Who always have lists of stuff they want to do and complain about a lack of time. Which they now have. They say they can't get motivated. They say they are bored. And, like... I get it. To a certain degree. This is a worldwide traumatic event. It's tiring, even if you aren't at the front lines. I'm also bummed that I can't derp through the city centre for fun like I'm used to. I hate being forced to use a desinfected shopping cart. I miss my gym, my favourite bar, and seeing my friends. I've had some bad days. But that's it- I'm just bummed. And they're just days, sometimes just hours, not weeks. It's an "ugh" not an "aaargh". And it doesn't get worse- It gets easier. As long as none of the other factors change, like someone I care about getting very sick (some were, or even still are, but none of them seem in immediate danger), or money suddenly falling away completely... I can easily last another 2 months before going mad. In fact, I've just comfortably settled in for the long haul. I got my hugs, my yard, my job, I can still get groceries- I'm good. A bit annoyed, but good. Not much actually changed... Except everyone around me seems to suffer from some real cabin fever, including my partner. Even my dad, Einzelgänger McNeed-no-one, seems grumpy.

And I'm just... baffled. Is it really that hard to stay motivated all by yourself, even if your basic needs are all met? Am I some kind of alien?? Do y'all not have projects? Hobbies? Books and games and movies you want to catch up on? Do you not feel like you're always months behind on everything? Do you normally not want to cram as much hours as possible in a day? Is it really that difficult to just do things? Even instant reward things? I'm no stranger to procrastination, or executive dysfunction, not at all, but... genuine boredom? I don't even understand how that WORKS. I can recall the last 3 times I've been legit bored in the last five years. They were all situations where I had to wait for something, yet keep alert the entire time. In any other situation, I can just set an alarm and retreat in my head. Or do a thing. Again- if your basic needs AREN't met (I'm not talking about a haircut, I mean like physical starvation) or if you're in some other stressful situation, including mental or physical illness/disability- yes. Absolutely. You're burnt-out, completely understandable. But if you HAVE a structure (a bit altered maybe, but still), HAVE somebody nice with you, HAVE non-risky job security, CAN communicate with loved ones- HOW. What is it that normally keeps you motivated, then? Do you need that specific an environment & rhythm to thrive, even if you often complain about it?? Explain it to me, please! I know we're dealing with global environmental catastrophe and this pandemic will likely cause a global recession on top of it, but- to me, at a certain point the amount of shit just becomes insurmountable and it doesn't matter much anymore if anything gets added. Who knows how I'll afford retirement. At this rate might very well not be able to afford clean water before that. We'll cross that bridge when (if) we get to it. Do whatever you can while you can, and that's enough. And making stuff is a great way to combat existential dread. I know that at the start of this, most people with anxiety functioned way better than the so-called normal people. Because a) they were used to navigating panic-mode, b) the social distancing took a load off and c) their brains went HAH SEE WE WERE RIGHT THERE WAS A THREAT! which I imagine must be sort of satisfying and relaxing. I figured this was the evolutionary benefit of anxiety. So now that cabin fever is rising, why do I not see more natural hermits being weirded out by everyone around them? Should there not be a decent group of humanity that keeps a level head during isolation? Has it become some social faux-pas to say you're personally not all that bad right now? Are you supposed to complain, even if you're fine?? Am I going to make myself some kind of outcast by posting this???

[kcostanz]

disclaimer: I’m going to be existential & sad before I turn it around

As 2020 wraps, I find myself increasingly absorbed by understanding the practices that I’m newly drawn to. The things I’ve chosen to connect with to get through what has certainly been the most unexpected year of my life, and perhaps that of billions of others. Even making such a grand statement still boggles my mind. Taking a moment to step outside of my life to acknowledge this global reality always gives much needed perspective. Life has been altered in wholly unforeseeable ways for billions of people this year. 

Exactly how our lives and worlds have been reshaped certainly looks different for each and every one of us. Our realities are constructed by so much: where we live, who we live with, what we do each day, our job, or the roles we play in society as a whole. Every life looks different, but the pandemic’s impact on these answers (and many more) is ever-changing and harshly felt. 

Reflecting on my own journey that has been navigating covid-19 and its impact on the world centers upon my age. Being 22 years old right now feels like constantly being stuck at a major life inflection point. In many ways I’m at the height of decision making- important ones at that, that will guide (the beginnings of) the rest of my life. Existential and perhaps a bit dramatic I know, but the pandemic exacerbates these emotions, so throw me a bone. 

I spent the first 21 years of my life on a set path, a regulated track that unknowingly provided an absurd amount of comfort. I went to public school K-12, graduated high school, and attended a 4-year institution, long awaiting the fantastical graduation year that for so long existed as a far-off fantasy: 2020. 

That momentous final semester was different than expected, but I can’t complain. I spent the last 3 months of college with a small handful of my closest friends, attended classes from the comfort of my bed, and graduated in my tiny apartment with two of my closest friends who hung around until the end. 

I procrastinated packing and cleaning my apartment until the last possible moment as my disapproving landlord approached to conduct the final walkthrough. Unsurprisingly, I left with a fraction of the security deposit, and the hard learned lesson that expo marker writing does not always come out of refrigerators (as the All Purpose spray, Oxi-Clean, bleach, hot water, soap, and eventually, shamefully, white paint can attest). 

With a egregiously packed car and zero rear view visibility, I was off. I blasted oldies with a twinge of liberation- I think I recall Born to Run (don’t worry, I am indeed embarrassed). I left all four windows down until I could no longer stand the sound of garbage bags flapping. Five short hours later I pulled into the driveway of my childhood home in Rochester, NY (with a broken mirror in the trunk no less- unsure if I’m superstitious but it felt like bad luck). 

The latter half of 2020- from June until now, has been full of unknowns, decision making in the dark, and hard fought self motivation. Vivid mixes of emotions old and new. 

First the dread of moving back in with parents as a young adult, and the stubborn resistance to fully unpack, so as to not get “too comfortable” at home. I now know such a thing is impossible for many reasons, one being that regardless of the lighting, art, and design, the girly pink walls of my childhood bedroom have proven immutable. 

Following this initial shock were extreme levels of self-induced pressure to find a job, do nothing but apply to jobs, and then bask in dejected feelings of never being able to get a job. While in the process, fully isolating myself from others, because I simultaneously felt I had too much to do, but yet was never really doing a thing. That concept has been fun to sit with. It comes with the realization that the carefree bliss of not having a single thing to do- say for a month long winter break- is officially gone. The list of things you could (and probably should) be doing is endless- welcome to the real world, Kate!

August was a blessed, beautiful month that, at the risk of (again) sounding dramatic, I am eternally grateful for. During this sweltering month I lived out of a car for nearly 3 weeks, camping with two pals throughout Utah and Wyoming. Even hitting a deer at 9pm, in a no-cell service zone, in the middle of a State Forest in Wyoming was a welcomed adventure at this point. A broken transmission, impromptu camping, two-hour tow truck ride, countless insurance calls, hostile car dealership conversations, two rental cars later, and we were back on track. This (incomplete) list of challenges provided beautiful life experience however, imparting lessons I could never fully know until I lived them. 

Returning home was as expected, a difficult transition back to monotony. Did I apply to vineyard jobs vaguely “out west?” Absolutely. Did I have it in me to go through with such a spontaneous life choice? Unfortunately not, though to my credit I did realize important goals that stood in the way of a dreamy vagabond existence. 

The fall has been a blur, and now there’s snow on the ground. I’ve found myself living for the future, and rarely ever for the moment, which is entirely antithetical to my personal philosophy. I have proclaimed my personal soundtrack to 2020 to be the loop of traditional Lebanese music that plays on repeat at my job as a server at Sinbad’s Mediterranean Cuisine (now as a takeout extraordinaire. And yes, despite the lack of in-person customers we are indeed instructed to play the CDs as per usual). This work, or my role as a part-time nanny is far from fulfilling (though the kids are darn cute), but that’s not the point for now. “At least I’m saving!” has been my most reliable source of positive encouragement, nearing personal mantra. 

I write this from my childhood bedroom, sitting at my desk, which was once our kitchen table circa 2002. It is as wobbly as it is sentimental, and I love it. The desk faces a window, the sill littered with glassware and candles because I have a thing against artificial light. I have a total of five notebooks, half opened, each containing swirling levels of thoughts, drawings, organization, calendars and to do lists. An orange caricature of a topless french woman sunbathing sits in front of me, reminding me that “TOUT VA BIEN!” (that everything is fine). And in minutes I will be dancing to the Moana soundtrack or drawing christmas trees and unicorns with 3 and 4 year olds. A snapshot of my life, at 22 years old, in 2020. 

Despite my life not being what I expected, or what I wanted it to look like as I embark on what’s supposed to be the most adventurous, spontaneous, and simply well-lived decade of my life, it is what it is, and as the french lady says, everything is fine. I have two part-time jobs, unforeseen savings, quality family time (both for better and for worse), my mom’s cooking, and a roof over my head. In a world with inconceivably high death tolls, rising unemployment and homelessness rates, and the constant, precarious fear of general loss, I have infinite blessings to count.

Life does feel like a giant waiting game though. How can one strategically plan out what comes next in their individual life when the entire world remains a massive question mark? In a time when we feel trapped, impatiently waiting for opportunities, experiences, and adventures to reopen, waiting feels hopeless. Because it is. If you’re unhappy with the opportunities before you, create your own.

I’m not saying I’m doing a stellar job at this myself- and as you can see I certainly struggle with my fair share of existential pessimism (day in and day out). But doing things has a certain electrifying feel that ignites and empowers you to build a meaningful life. I’m producing a web series with a group of similarly listless 20 somethings who are also doing their best to be creative and productive from the confines of their family homes. I’m practicing yoga and meditation really to cope with my own stress and internal anxieties, but in doing so am creating new habits and mindsets that will certainly outlast the pandemic. I’ve connected with a group of strangers by dancing to shamantic and electronica music in various outdoor locations throughout Rochester. Whoa! Never would I have imagined finding such deeply liberating peace through ecstatic dance of all things, but hey 2020 is full of surprises. 

This position I’m in is both uniquely my own through my personal experiences, and also shared by more people than I could imagine. Maybe only bits and pieces resonate with you, or maybe you are living your best life in the city of your dreams with a fabulous career in a lovely home with the world’s best roommates. But even if that’s you- you’re missing out on something too. The whole world is. We feel disconnected, disjointed, digitally controlled and consumed, and despite who we surround ourselves with- isolated. We’re stuck living in a world of “once this is over I’ll….” and no matter who you are it feels damn weird to spend so much time in your head dreaming of a future rather than living it out in the now. 

So… solutions? As we all know, you only have so much control during a global pandemic (very little to be exact). But what you can control is how you live your life during it. I certainly won’t preach to what works and pretend like I’ve figured it out- that work is no one’s to do but your own. But I do feel that so much comes down to mindset, perspective, mental health and ultimately finding ways to seek inner peace. 

Potential solutions are abundant, and have been explored by more people now than ever before. Though there is no recipe to conquer the inevitable fears, concerns and anxieties that accompany the pandemic and this phase of life, I’m interested in further exploring some of the ones that work for me. How is something as simple as breathing so helpful? 

Finding inner peace is a sought after skill in 2020. I have endless gratitude to all of the incredible humans who have served as a source of learning, and have helped me to tap into positive internal energy. My intention is to look into some of the causes of (my personal) covid-realted inner turmoil and the solutions that have brought some serenity into my life. Though they may not always be long lasting, some answers are better than none. Here’s to writing for no one, and thank you for listening. <3 

[hatimbcaptsone]

artist bio

hatim benhsain is a comic-maker, a game developer, a 2d visual artist, and a music composer. he attends nyu abu dhabi where he is pursuing a ba in interactive media with minors in computer science and music technology. he has also studied game design in the game center at tisch in new york and japanese at waseda university, tokyo. he has worked on satirical cartoons, a library field guide, and a web-based street food-themed comic delivery system. currently, he’s working on his senior thesis project, a 2d adventure game about mythology, grief, and navigating the afterlife. in the past, he founded a band and played the keyboard and made illustrations for the nyuad arts center and a book about tourism in japan. his inspirations include the works of kieron gillen, jack stauber, neil gaiman, shu takumi, lena raine, toby fox, worthikids, anaïs mitchell, and masaaki yuasa.

artist statement

i write and draw comics that take place in fantastical sci-fi reflections of our world where cryptids cohabitate with mortals and robots have angst, but things are otherwise pretty much the same. by stretching out panels and playing around with composition and layouts i like to defamiliarize and emphasize the weirdness of the mundane moments of everyday life. in one of my last comics, a janitor robot originally built for war seeks a therapist after finding itself obsolete and struggling to find a purpose when peace is resolved.

i also make video games, which are, most of the time, 2d adventure games that borrow jrpg elements. while i use comics to explore life and the way we feel about it, my video games are usually reinterpretations of our interactions with the world we live in and the ones we dream about. to express this, music is a powerful tool. i like music that shifts, speeds up, and repeats to alter the gameplay, imply story elements, and form a more complete experience. recently, i reimagined the myth of orpheus in a game where you play as a ghost who goes to free their friend from prison. there is no combat involved, but if you meet one of the pig-bat guards, they may let you through if you sing beautifully enough to them. i wanted the music to play an important role, so i also made it the mechanic to choose dialog options, and i made the ghost (and the pigs) sound differently depending on which part of the background music is currently playing.

my stories take on many topics, and i rarely stick to just one. sometimes, they’re about food, our attachments to it, what the way we prepare it says about us, and the reasons we do. they often involve folklore, mythology, and strange characters that only exist because of the people who believe in them. i take interest in death, rebirth, our different conceptions of the afterlife, and why we choose - or not - to imagine them. most of all though, my stories deal with the stories that we tell, the power that they hold, and the blurry lines between reality, media, and the media within. 

every few weeks, i ask myself why i chose this path. i could be doing something more useful; an engineer, a doctor, or a firefighter. i fall into anxiety, hopelessness, and depression about what the future holds for me. but then, i read, play, or hear a story i enjoy, and life becomes slightly more bearable. when i create my characters, i always give them one or more of the struggles - the existential dread, the ennui, or the general human struggle - that i deal with. by sharing them with the world, i hope that i, too, can help others feel slightly less alone.