My greatest terror, I think, and I have many terrors, is that I will be perceived as arrogant. That people will think that I think that I’m better at something that I am. When I present something that I’ve done or made without a line of preemptive depreciation attached, I hear the thoughts of all who see it: does she think that’s GOOD? And it’s so terrifying I almost can’t let it stand. I can never allow anyone to believe I think anything I make is any good, because what if it’s not, and I’m living in a pride I haven’t earned. What if I do or feel anything I haven’t earned. What if I take up space, make art, have an experience, use an accommodation, use someone’s time, feel a joy I do not deserve. What if I get above my station. Trying to learn art, a mission I have not abandoned, was so difficult in part because my sublime badness made me feel as though I had no right to even participate. What if, imagine, unbearable, what if someone sees me trying to make art and somehow gets the idea that I thought I was good enough at art to have a right to experience the joy of making it? I take myself to the eye doctor to make an appointment to get measured for contacts for a costume and am so very sure I will be laughed out of the building because I’m asking for help and time I don’t really need, for something silly and unimportant, which my own projects must be, by definition, because they’re mine, and everything I touch immediately becomes silly and unimportant by association, and how dare I take up the time of a real actual eye doctor who has real actual patients to see with real actual needs and problems that aren’t a Halloween costume, nevermind that this is still within the purview of their literal job, nevermind that I’m paying them actual money, nevermind the literal content of my own rant a couple nights ago about the toxicity of the way we reserve relief only for the desperate. And of course, they don’t laugh me out of the building. But it’s all the same thought, over and over, in different shells and different flavors, no matter the topic, no matter the terror. Because when the voice of anxiety tells me lies, as it often does, despite the fact that I know they are lies, when the voice of anxiety in my head parrots the horrible things it’s so sure everyone around me is saying, it’s always the same sentence, every time: who does she think she is?
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Finished designing my bull angel concept! for my friend's TTRPG
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So... Who had "Cosmo and Wanda are actually biblically accurate angels" on their 2024 bingo card?
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[Astarion] is a cat. He's a black cat. There's a stray that comes into my house called Red... and he's quite feral. It took me three years before I could pick him up and hold him. He's totally cool with me now. Three fucking years. He gave me a lot of inspiration about Astarion.
- Neil Newbon, on developing Astarion's physicality and mannerisms
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OK TUMBLR PRETEND WE'RE ALL ON SET TOGETHER PICK A JOB
if you actually work/have worked as one of these pls select it and tell me in the tags im curious
if you've worked as multiple, pick your favorite
everyone else, VOTE ON VIBES ALONE!!
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a new character (or not really, they kinda got recycled) for a new pathfinder mini campagne !
they are called Lucien, they are a nephilim fleshwarp cleric!
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