#cathartic art

[ilovejoyjessie]

Hidden Figures #1 (Wake by Richard Serra) || IV.

I started to accept the possibility that I didn't quite fit any group mold here as a transplant because those molds weren't large enough to accommodate all of me. I've always been difficult to be exactly boxed, easily sorted or slid between figures around me. In my art, in my beliefs and my day to day life...I have complex turns and curves to me and make shapes of many kinds. I am part some things and other parts another, a custom make. Aren't we all? Even so, my not-easily-sorted ways had never seemed to be a barrier to fully connecting with others - until I moved here.

.

In the spaces I'd found myself in, in other cities I'd lived, you and who you were mattered more than the group identity you shared with others. You had common connections and origin stories, but at some point your views and experiences splintered off - but rarely did that change the dynamic of your group or the volume of your voice within it. It wasn't assumed you'd be exactly like the people in whatever group you found yourself in.

.

I was used to the acceptance of newcomers and nuance to a group: Clashing shapes on a canvas, the rowdy, passionate dissonance that came from discourse and teasing jokes among its members - and the understanding that, even with their apparent differences, no one belonged to the scenery any less. There was freedom to be one's full self. No shrinking for fitting. They saw your curves and angles and made room for them, creating a mosaic of people whose ideas and beliefs were brought together by common community.

.

But here in Seattle, it seemed the groups I found myself in and around thrived off their choruses of "Me too", "I feel the same way", of "We all know...", and "I think we can all say that..."s. But with all their scripts for their language, culture, interests, values, and etiquette there seemed to be no script for responses of, "I feel differently", "That's not what I think" or "That working for you doesn't mean it works for me". It felt like if I was out of step with the rest of the group, I was the one making the wrong curve; when my different arcs and waves, my different experiences, beliefs and existences appeared, an air of defensiveness entered the room or a quick silence hung in the air after they noticed me shifting. No probing, no pondering, no jokes or pokes. Just a return to the forms the group's always known, back to the angles by which the group abides.

.

I've seen and appreciated the ways in which the Seattle area prides itself on its tight-knit communities. But as a perpetual outsider, I've also seen how its groups seem to sing their choruses so loudly it's easy for them to tune out voices of difference - to not recognize a different note being sung. Either newcomers know the chorus or they just don't sing along - otherwise, when they sing a different verse, everyone seems to notice.

.

I've lived on both sides of the lines I've seen these groups draw in the sand. I've lived on both sides of a lot of lines. But it's been so long since I've felt I had to "fit in", slide cleanly into a mold, to make meaningful connections instead of feeling I was accepted the way I wholly am, curves fitting in or not. Would it really benefit me to start doing that now? Reduce myself to just one of my many aspects? Temper my complexities and angles just to fit the Seattle spaces I've found myself in?

.

I could give into the tight-knit sameness around me, do my best to mimic the shapes and movements and people around me...or I could break free of the idea that the only way to succeed in the landscape I found myself in was to fit neatly into it.

[strawberrynoble]

I started a new sketchbook the other day! Having a lot of fun just letting loose and drawing random faces. Find me elsewhere!

[anazenart]

“I wish I could be Numb” (aka, being empathetic sucks).

One trait of my autism is hyper empathy. One way to describe it is I’m like Tinkerbell: there’s only enough room to hold one emotion at a time, but I experience that emotion with every fiber of my being. When I’m happy, I’m ecstatic. When I’m angry, I’m enraged. When I’m sad, I’m depressed.

And when I’m around people, I absorb their emotions.

When I first started my current job, there were some intense meetings I attended (because I felt I didn’t have the choice to not go). These meetings were full of angry and frustrated individuals, and I was forced to sit through hours of their negativity. At the end I would get so overwhelmed that it would trigger what I now know to be a meltdown. I would huddle in a bathroom stall, shaking and crying, the experience only made worse because I didn’t understand why it was happening.

Finally, things at work calmed down. I was officially diagnosed and was granted accommodations at work - given a private space that shelters me from all the stimulus in the main office and allows me to interact with my coworkers less (the toxic gossip that everyone was so bent on spewing was making my mental health suffer).

But even with the accommodations, I still have to go to meetings. I still have to interact with my coworkers. I still get subjected to the poison of negative emotions. Because something about me seems to scream to people, “I’m a great listener and will gladly help you relieve you of your suffering by hearing all of these things I didn’t want to know.”

And I’m left feeling heavy, gross, and tired.

So there are times when I wish I was Numb

[tawnysoup]

Their POV

[macadamiyam]

cait is h*rny on main

[jazzies-stuff]

Didn't see that one coming, did you, Azul?

Based on this:

+ full version

[asinoeiv]

1st - Egalmoth, Duilin, Ecthelion and Glorfindel in the back.

2nd - Annatar, Celebrimbor and Oc

3rd - Anaire, Fingolfin, Feanor and Finwe

[nesscuro]

“resplendent. rendered even more beautiful by her beholder.”✨☀️

(a redraw of a small piece of the ‘Villa Igiea’ Mural by italian artist Ettore De Maria Bergler…which i implore everyone to have a look at. it is Gorgeous)

[cloudcastor]

how are we doing post ice adolescence news 😭

from patreon

[mirmalade]

did some art to commemorate burn my soul on global

[bunnieswithknives]

Thanks.

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[drawerbread]

first flower of my house

(aka harrow can’t catch a break in my drawings)

alt version:

[strawberrynoble]

Another sketchbook spread! Check me out elsewhere

[littleapocalypsekitten]

For those who don't follow my artblr - https://shadsiesartattic.tumblr.com/ My Fury Murdering the God of Hell A piece about rejecting an old image of God that I detest, drawn out of deep grief for a fallen loved one (who was never much into religion). The problem is, I was, I used to be. (I'm still not an atheist, I am something other). However, I was an Evangelical / Baptist when I was young and feel certain mental traumas for that. I both regret and don't regret that time. I think I am overall glad that I had it because there are things I understand that I wouldn't have otherwise and I was able to build up my mental software. I've been so wrecked this week... I finally was able to cry when I was thinking of my former religion and started full out growling and gnashing my teeth at the ceiling telling God that if he's like the Fundies believe, that if my loved one went to Hell over some pedantic stupid "didn't say the magic-prayer" thing, that I am going to drag God out of Heaven and off his throne BY HIS INTESTINES. (I don't even care if I lose the fight and go to Hell, myself). Fortunately, I do not believe in that kind of a God anymore, hence the corpse-like appearance of the "false image of God" here. The avatar of myself... well, I had planned it to be human, but decided that animal-features were easier to draw and thought "lion-demon" seems to reflect my pure animal rage at the very idea of a Fundamentalist Hell-happy God as well as my current grief.

[frosting-surfeit]

I so miss being a jhonen vasquez imposter)

Got that jhonen style brainrot

[atlas-hope]

we are going through it fellas