#chinny babbles on the internet

[czgoldedition]

That is EXTREMELY wholesome and wonderful OP!! A lot of long form creative endeavors can cause folks to get in their own heads and doubt themselves, so receiving positive affirmation as concrete as someone else taking the time to create more art based on their creation is just resplendent.

Somewhat relatedly, the positive consequences of drawing someone fanart can get even wilder yet: over six years ago I too drew a scene from writing I was really enjoying, just because I was moved by it and I knew how much effort went into putting a novel-length story out there for free. I didn't expect a response, I just wanted to show the author my appreciation. Now that writer is my fianceé and I've moved across an ocean to live with her.

Apparently, my decision to be silly and make fanart of someone's writing (because I genuinely enjoy the story the person is writing and I was struck with inspiration upon reading a particular scene) has benevolent and wildly unforeseen consequences.

I apparently gained a bit of control of the canon because said writer really loved the art and decided what I drew/draw is canon.

2. Writer put said artwork into the document of his story right below the scene, so now it's IN the story where people who read the story will see it (with a link to me)

3. He sent the artwork to all his friends and people he knows because he was so excited

Wholesome interaction and I watched him do all that in real time, good stuff. However...there are two more consequences I was notified of today...nearly a full week after I gave the artwork.

Seeing the artwork caused his friends to become interested in reading and hearing about his story, which means more people are reading what he's writing and giving him critique on the story (which he actively asks for).

Apparently, upon seeing the art, his writer friends got a sudden second wind to pick back up writing they'd abandoned for a few months. Because, I quote, "seeing that someone enjoyed {his} writing enough to take the time to make art of it gave them the motivation that maybe THEY can write something that will inspire someone to also create something." I have accidentally caused a writing frenzy among his writer friends and my silly idea to make art for someone has had a butterfly effect for people who I don't even know.

Uhh...I'm pretty sure there's a moral here but I am tired and have a great deal of emotions about this.

[czgoldedition]

Whenever I see the Lambert < Root < Martine <<< Reese image used as a meme in the wild, it makes me smile. Every time. It's so genuinely charming that a scene from Person of Interest became part of the general internet zeitgeist . . . also makes me want to rewatch the show.

[czgoldedition]

Me: When I was five I used to sit up late at night trying to picture what the experience of death would be like, and imagining my funeral.

My spouse: What... the fuck?

Me: You didn't do that?

My spouse: No??

---

Me: [describing a dream I woke up from] -- then I lay there bleeding to death. It hurt at first, but soon everything just became warm and I felt very sleepy. I could just slip off so easily; I didn't want to die, I was frightened, but I was so tired.

My spouse: Your dreams are terrifying, what the hell.

Me: You've never died in a dream?

My spouse: I mean yeah but, because I walked off a cliff or something, never in violent detail.

Me: Oh. I die viscerally in my dreams kind of often?

---

Me: I had a panic attack last night and wrote out a preliminary draft of my last will and testiment in Google Keep, just in case I died in my sleep.

My spouse: Why are you like this.

[czgoldedition]

Having extremely long hair is like: the end of my braid is wet. Why is it wet? I thought it was contained what did it get into oh god did it commit war crimes down there what is happening

[czgoldedition]

Yes yes yes yes!!

The lawn people came today for the first time in weeks; I heard the mower and literally yelled OH SHIT and ran outside to dump protection around at least a handful of the baby trees that sprung up in their absence. 😭

I'll space them out more later. I just... hate lawns, let me keep more babies here please. They didn't mow for three weeks and sixteen - sixteen!! - new trees popped up. ;U; I quickly saved five of those, which is something at least. Three more black locusts, an oak, and a black walnut.

The black locust and maple I saved last year are already so much bigger (though buggos munch both and deer keep trying to eat the maple in particular). I just get so emotional thinking how much nicer this yard could be in the future when it's not lawn.

Someday when we have our forever home I want to nurture so many trees there too and get so much more native ground cover going on.

This is a bizarre rambling reblog but like when I saw those sixteen new baby trees I felt one of the biggest jolts of serotonin I had in quite some time, and I'm kind of legitimately sad about the ones that are gone now. Nature was trying to heal.

I...tried to make a meme and got carried away and made A Thing that is like partially unfinished because i spent like 3 hours on it and then got tired.

I think this is mostly scientifically accurate but truth be told, there seems to be relatively little research on succession in regards to lawns specifically (as opposed to like, pastures). I am not exaggerating how bad they are for biodiversity though—recent research has referred to them as "ecological deserts."

Feel free to repost, no need for credit

[czgoldedition]

I made a tumblr in 2009, and that's about to be 11 years ago? Time is fake and mysterious.

[czgoldedition]

If I cut my hair short for the first time in my life ever that I have conscious memory for, should I go with a more Captain Marvel cut or a Dave Strider cut. What style of short hair would legitimately suit me?? These are important to considerations.

[czgoldedition]

There are days that dealing with my brain feels akin to coercing a petulant child into performing bare minimum daily tasks. I have to tell myself, alright alright, edit this artwork and order these stickers, then you can get another La Croix out of the fridge. After that, do your daily Duolingo and pull the audio files you need to cut up off your USB drive, THEN you can play a little Minecraft before bed...

It feels like 'pulling teeth' and at times I'm sick of whatever little thing I have to do the entire time I'm doing it. Sometimes I'm admittedly a little self-torturous, denying myself present needs: Do this sketch, then you can get up and use the bathroom. Finish assembling these pins, then you can get more water.

But I go a little further and try to then trick myself into, okay now that you've handled that, ONE more thing... ie you finished assembling these pins, may as well cut out these badges too and THEN you can go. Or, okay you've transferred these audio files, maybe you should edit as least a FEW of them to get yourself started before you play Minecraft. I do that, and then... it's late so I chide myself, brush your teeth and THEN, for real, finally Minecraft. Sure.

Small, small things. It's literally like there's a tiny parent version of me living inside my brain that constantly has to chide the unmotivated me into any action whatsoever. And yet, I still don't get a lot done at times. Emails go unanswered, some art tasks sit on my to-do list for months, laundry piles up, the floor goes unswept for longer than it should.

I notice a distinct absent-minded and forgetful nature has developed as well. I think about getting up to pull the USB drive from my bag in order to extract those audio files. I get sidetracked by several other micro-tasks and various chats. I remember about the USB drive and actually get up, acquire it, plug it in, sit back down. Something else distracts me and I'm off doing only god knows what in no time, and then I remember about the USB drive I have to get out of the bag and get up to acquire it. It's not in the bag. Only then do I recall that I already remembered, and that it's in my machine awaiting my use.

That sort of scenario? Never used to happen for me. Never. Once upon a time I had a very sharp memory, and the foggy sort of fish-brain current me finds herself in possession of makes me vaguely uncomfortable... but mostly I'm just tired. Some days it's difficult to think through the fog long enough to string a coherent sentence together. (Other days I'm fine, energetic, productive - but those days are fewer in number than the reverse.)

I AM very externally motivated: when people are going to see my space or are relying on me for a thing in a timely fashion, I have a slightly easier time doing the thing. Someone is coming over? Quick, now I'll sweep. Oh shit I shared a picture where the laundry pile is visible, I'm mortified, time to finally deal with the laundry. I need to draw for work: I'm not getting up from the dining room table. A friend needs a redline on a piece: suddenly I'm getting up and at my computer and drawing to help them, and now I have the momentum to keep working and do some of my own shit too. Tight deadlines have a similar effect. Convention coming up on top of another hard and fast work due date? I'm waking up and hitting the ground running, working every waking second and passing back out without stopping to take breaks beyond eating and using the bathroom for literally weeks on end. But then once it's over and the deadlines have passed, the foggy brained state settles back in and I'm just so, so tired.

[Disclaimer: Examples used in this ramble are merely random recent tasks and needs, I don’t actually mind any of them in particular nor are they indicative of always, just... I’m too foggy to think of anything more general, so super recent whatevertheheck it is! And nothing to worry about here, just journaling but on tumblr.]

[czgoldedition]

Apparently Second Christmas is a thing in some places?? Or so my dutch gf has said, so are dutch folks very tall hobbits or 🤔

*incredulous voice* mERRY CHRISTMAS????? WHAT ABOUT PIPPIN CHRISTMAS?????  

#YES BUT WHAT ABOUT SECOND CHRISTMAS

I don’t think they’ve heard about second Christmas.

[czgoldedition]

Random 5 AM can't sleep thoughts: every day is a new year considered aside the correspondently marked date from the year before. Whenever you need to start again, consider the new day a new year.

[czgoldedition]

ALRIGHT I read another thing that helps untangle insecurity is building solid self esteem, so here’s to trying to legitimately be into the me that exists.

I'm not always comfy with traditionally femme presentation things but I do find that smearing on a touch of eyeliner and blush can be a good feel (props to @shutupimcreating for being the living demonstration that makeup has no gender, they def help make me feel better about it just by rocking it and being themself).

Thing you can’t see in this picture but I also observed this morning putting on said eyeliner: more distinctive wrinkles form at the corners of my eyes than I’ve ever noticed before when I make certain facial expressions, and that’s kind of really neat imo. Aging isn’t scary, it’s beautiful.

[czgoldedition]

I’m reading more about overcoming anxiety and insecurity on my own, as what my psychologist presents me with about about mindfulness and meditation definitely has stirred things up rather than calmed them down. But to give her approach some credit - this has allowed me to analyze what it is I might need to consider.

First I ought to establish who I am. When someone asks about me or how I’ve been, I quickly jump to talking about my artwork and my relationships. Both are extremely important to me and sources of great joy, but also great anxiety.

I couple my own self-worth with the quantity and quality of art I produce in a given week, and still feel crushing guilt or frustration when I pursue too many activities that don’t have a tangible creative output, tasks such as cleaning (I’ve been trying to “Marie Kondo” my home) and playing games. I’m definitely better on this score than I used to be, but still have a long way to go in genuinely convincing myself that it’s not only important and okay not to create all the time, but extremely necessary and healthy not to.

I put a ton of thought, feeling, and energy into my relationships, most especially romantic relationships; this has always been the case. That might sound positive but historically it’s always caused trouble, as I approach loving others with an amount of passion that registers as obsessive. I’ve gotten much better in this realm than past me was, and figuring out polyamory was a huge part of that, but I still crave a lot of contact with my partners and frequently think of myself in relation to them. I love my husband and I love my girlfriend, but I shouldn’t define myself by having them in my life, or feel fear when they’re not as present - we are separate and whole individuals that enjoy each other and help each other out, not people getting thrown together into a blender. Seeing them grow as people makes me want to pursue meaningful change for myself, too.

So my art and my partners are important aspects of my life - but who am I?

I’m an emotional creature that feels deeply for the universe around me. I emphasize with every living thing and try my best not to cause any hurt when it can be avoided, from people to even the tiny bugs that enter my home. I love the smell of coffee, the sparkle of fresh snow, and the ethereal glow of dust drifting through motes of sunlight. I believe humans are just another animal and the fabric of society is a wild act of mutual creativity - a collective tool of cooperation but not the end all be all of anything. The wonder of the cosmos itself is the closest I come to experiencing religious awe, and I find both science and art to be the most remarkable pursuits to separate us from our kin of other species, if anything. Storytelling, both absorbing those spun by others and weaving my own, fills me with a passion sometimes equivalent to what I feel for my friends and partners. I hope reincarnation or another form of continued life winds up being the reality of death, but if it is not I still believe living has meaning, and perhaps doubly so: to collect experiences, bring joy to others, and leave the world better than we entered it. When I meditate I see myself as a dark furred wolf with yellow eyes and a graying muzzle; in art I more commonly represent myself as an anthropomorphic lurcher with visual traits borrowed from both my actual physical self and the three greyhounds I grew up with. I’ve experienced phantom limbs and strange dreams that connect me to this form of self-expression more strongly than I’m attached to the flesh and bone me. Whether I’m some form of therian or just a dreamer who imprinted heavily on animals as a child is unclear to me. Along that same vein - I’m always trapped somewhere between skepticism and mysticism, refuse to settle on either at this point in my life, and I’m at peace with that. I’m nearly thirty years old and recognize that I have so much more to experience and learn, but that everything is uncertain and I could just as easily be dead tomorrow. The purr of a cat and the laughter of a friend are both sounds that mend my heart. I enjoy burning candles, playing short aggressive card games, cuddling, and best express myself through writing and drawing. I’m an extrovert in that I feel a boost from the energy and presence of others, and I love a number of people very intensely.

I guess by the end there I looped back around to my initial acknowledgements, but maybe from a slightly healthier perspective? Either way that was a refreshing stream-of-conscious thing to write. I’m not sure how to summarize or identify self succinctly, but I will work on it. ❤️

[czgoldedition]

This resonates, so... you know what, I'll share.

When my mother found out at age 15 that I was dating girls - by reading my private journal she found under a pillow in my room, without consent - she gave me a speech about how it was a "phase" and that I was "confused", and then we never spoke of it again. Literally. I wrote her a letter explaining my feelings and she never responded. Then, the first time I dated a boy, she was oddly overjoyed.

It hurt.

I was never disowned or sent to a conversion camp or anything extreme like that, but I was never accepted for who I really was either.

Nearly half my life later, at 29 years old, I revealed that I was polyamorous and once again dating a woman. Her first response was to accuse me of being bipolar. (I don't happen to be, no.) That CLEARLY if I was making these choices, impulsive mental illness was to blame.

A year later I brought that same woman over to my childhood home. My mother was very surface level polite but also ignored her as much as possible, awkwardly redirecting conversations to my other (male) partner as much as possible, even when he wasn't paying attention.

At present day those same relationships have been going for nearly 11 and 5 years, respectively. We're moving to live closer to my now fiancée. My mom has finally actually acknowledged her existence and said her name a couple of times but in a very stilted, awkward way. I want to raise children and grow old with this woman and it took my mom 4 years just to tentatively say her name.

My mom also continuously misgenders some of my friends no matter how frequently and stubbornly I refer to them correctly. Which is deeply uncomfortable. It makes me feel like I can never trust her.

She's liberal. She's a good parent on paper, cooking and knitting and quilting gifts, offering help and support on various family issues. She made sure I had a good education and ate good food and read plenty of books. She instilled in me a love of nature and science fiction and creative endeavors. She'll always say "I love you" and try to do what she thinks is best.

But she's never acknowledged or accepted who I really am and that leaves an awkward, gray gulf between us. Some days I'm afraid she never will.

And it hurts.

I feel like we always see parents who are 100% super supportive allies, or parents who are horrible and cruel.  At least in media or in the most popular stories.  But I feel like that ignores just how many people have parents where you just have no idea?  And even if you think they’ll accept you on a surface level, you don’t know if they have a breaking point.  Especially if you need to go on hrt, or request they change the way they think about and refer to you.  Sure they’re liberal and all, or centrists, or “tolerant”, but how far does that stretch?

I think most closeted LGBT+ kids live like this, wading around in the grey area.  I’d like it of more of us knew that was normal, I’d like if we talked about it more.

[czgoldedition]

Wakes up after 4 hours of actual sleep and gets up to sit on the toilet and cry.

A scary thing about therapy is you uncover possible things about yourself that you wish weren't true.

[czgoldedition]

"I live in an apartment, so my three cats are a Sufficient quantity of animal until we can someday buy a house."

Me: sees a greyhound walking down the street

My brain: LONG STILT BOY. PRECIOUS VELVETY NOODLE. WHY WE HAVE NO LENGTHY SNOOT CHILD??? MUST ACQUIRE.

[czgoldedition]

Unimportant thought in the scheme of things, but that little sad feeling you get when you regularly see hate for someone you used to look up to, and it's been forever since the internet first got mad at them so you know it'll take ages more to fade out entirely. And they may not be your hero anymore because that's been ruined, but you do still genuinely really enjoy all their work even though you see the flaws in it. Negativity without purpose makes me sad.

I'll stop vagueposting and say hey so I know Joss Whedon fucked up with that one Avengers movie and also cheated on his wife, but idk, I still like a lot about his writing. Buffy, Firefly, and Dollhouse all were/are important to me. Nowadays it looks like he's been using his platform to try and enact positive political change, so I'm glad for that. Firmly in the "has fucked up but hey I still think he has interesting things to say" pile for me.

I'll totally toss someone's work in the proverbial garbage if they're genuinely awful enough, don't get me wrong - there's a degree of separation between an artist and their work, but if an artist is too terrible then there's a point where I can't condone supporting their work either, like Pogo. I used to hella enjoy his music, then it turned out the guy was extremely misogynistic homophobic garbage. So I'll never intentionally listen to his music again, and I'll never recommend it again, because I don't want to give him YouTube views or any support whatsoever. Which is a little sad and I even understand when someone likes a creation enough to ignore that.

So also, no shaming up in here, you're valid for enjoying whatever brings you joy and any and all bullshit a creator has pulled does not mean you're a bad person for liking their work.

Similarly - because I know this is hard! Criticisms of a work you wholeheartedly love are not criticisms of you! It can feel that way, and you want your favorite things to be 'perfect'. But they're not perfect, nothing is. They're made by people who, like all people, are fallible. It can be good to discuss why things in a work you like might have negative connotations so that you're aware of it and can strive to either be more sensitive in your own work or to support even more aware things by others if they come along, but like... you can still enjoy the shit that you do. Even if the piece has some bullshit in it, or if the creator(s) did some bullshit.

Like I prefaced, really not Huge Important Stuff, but I guess I'll be non-cowardly enough to post this. Be good to each other and find the escapes you need where you can. ❤️