Well. Tom and I have something in common. Bring on the castles and kings, musicals and monologues, accents and... warm fuzzy feelings.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Tom And I Have Something In Common
Well. Tom and I have something in common. Bring on the castles and kings, musicals and monologues, accents and... warm fuzzy feelings.
Cosplay vs Studio Art vs Where Am I
Hello blog, you look a little dusty. Let me clean you off and show you a good time. I haven't been blogging allll that much due to general life and always being busy. Like there's always something to do and never a single moment when I can stop and go, "Yeah, I don't have anything to do right now."
So lately I've been trying to focus all my time and thought to my paintings and metals projects. When I'm not slaving away on those, I'm cleaning something. The kitchen never is finished. There's always a lot of dishes left to do, especially between the broken dishwasher and just how many dishes seem to get used in a night. I guess I've been playing the part of the average art student...
But then there are nights when I hang out at Heather and Sumner's and I go back into cosplay mode because, well, they're in it 80% of the time. I miss being able to do that. I miss being able to browse fabric and style wigs and glue things together and just work. And yet when I devote a lot of my time to cosplay, I get sad that I'm not devoting as much time to personal art. It's like I can never win.
And while all that's going on, everyone is going batshit crazy and I'm having mood swings out the wazoo and the world is falling apart and I'm constantly reminded that I'm the destroyer of our universe. I managed to do the one thing I wasn't supposed to do and am eternally a piece of shit for ruining everything. Everything is my fault and there's no amount of repentance I could ever possibly do to make up for it.
I remember going to confession twice in my life. Once, I was really young and had nothing to confess before my First Communion. The second time, I did something that upset my parents (Might have been lying or disrespect), and I remember sitting in that weird room between the narthex and the sacristy with Deacon Phil. I have no memory of what we even talked about, but I remember staring at the box of tissues and hearing him tell me to say five Hail Marys and think on my sins. Now of course, none of this has any real significance since I don't have a Catholic bone in my body, but the idea remains. All I had to do to atone for those sins were to say a few words and automatically my sins were lifted. But what am I supposed to do now?
There are no magic words or imaginary people to pretend to wash my troubles away. It's all on me. Do I live out my life in shame and guilt? Do I accept it and push it away? Do I accept it and keep it floating around? None of that matters, because none of them are the correct answer. The more I think about these problems, the more terrified I get and the more open I am to escapes that I don't want. I don't hate myself for doing it, but I do hate myself for hurting the most important person in my life.
So lately I've been trying to focus all my time and thought to my paintings and metals projects. When I'm not slaving away on those, I'm cleaning something. The kitchen never is finished. There's always a lot of dishes left to do, especially between the broken dishwasher and just how many dishes seem to get used in a night. I guess I've been playing the part of the average art student...
But then there are nights when I hang out at Heather and Sumner's and I go back into cosplay mode because, well, they're in it 80% of the time. I miss being able to do that. I miss being able to browse fabric and style wigs and glue things together and just work. And yet when I devote a lot of my time to cosplay, I get sad that I'm not devoting as much time to personal art. It's like I can never win.
And while all that's going on, everyone is going batshit crazy and I'm having mood swings out the wazoo and the world is falling apart and I'm constantly reminded that I'm the destroyer of our universe. I managed to do the one thing I wasn't supposed to do and am eternally a piece of shit for ruining everything. Everything is my fault and there's no amount of repentance I could ever possibly do to make up for it.
I remember going to confession twice in my life. Once, I was really young and had nothing to confess before my First Communion. The second time, I did something that upset my parents (Might have been lying or disrespect), and I remember sitting in that weird room between the narthex and the sacristy with Deacon Phil. I have no memory of what we even talked about, but I remember staring at the box of tissues and hearing him tell me to say five Hail Marys and think on my sins. Now of course, none of this has any real significance since I don't have a Catholic bone in my body, but the idea remains. All I had to do to atone for those sins were to say a few words and automatically my sins were lifted. But what am I supposed to do now?
There are no magic words or imaginary people to pretend to wash my troubles away. It's all on me. Do I live out my life in shame and guilt? Do I accept it and push it away? Do I accept it and keep it floating around? None of that matters, because none of them are the correct answer. The more I think about these problems, the more terrified I get and the more open I am to escapes that I don't want. I don't hate myself for doing it, but I do hate myself for hurting the most important person in my life.
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