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I decided I wanted to turn a series of my illustrations into a webcomic. Unfortunately, it's also finals week for me.
In other news, I think I'm finally settling into a comfortable visual medium. Finally. I hope to keep working at it to see how it'll grow from here.
My state's government just shut down.
I can't intern anymore because the politicians can't decide on budgeting compromises. Scratch that. In the latest news, they can't even agree on when to meet to talk about it.
I did this piece in pen and ink while sitting at the coffee shop just off my campus. I was doing a little thinking.
My life's been all kinds of weird, lately.
Over the winter, my parents flew my Aunt Yuki over here to the States to get her away from her husband. She'd suffered from an incredible amount of domestic violence for about three decades before she finally decided to leave him this year. She spent Christmas and New Year with us, and before she returned to Japan, I got to spend a lot of time getting to know the brave woman who snuck money out of her personal finances against the will of a fearfully violent husband to keep me, her infant nephew, fed while her little sister and brother-in-law tried, year after year, to get away from the refugee camp to which they'd been displaced in the aftermath of the Vietnam War.
That was two decades ago.
With the money she sent back, my parents could buy me formula and soft fruits, and I was a relatively healthy baby, thanks in great part to her sacrifices. She met me for the first time when I was about two, and I still have the little white teddy bear she brought for me. While she staid with us this winter, she was always apologizing for taking up my space. I'm not sure she even expected that I was well aware that I owed her everything. I've never met anybody so oblivious to her own heroism.
Aunt Yuki's visa expired in February, and she moved back to Japan a couple months ago. She's now away from her husband, and in the care of some kind friends.
And then the earthquakes happened.
As soon as I saw the news, I phoned my mom, who told me she and Aunt Yuki had been corresponding regularly. Aunt Yuki was sure to be clutching something solid and stable every time she called over because, as my mom explained, the quakes were still happening. Auntie would apologize in advance just in case she needed to evacuate the building. She says she and my cousins are all safe, but something they're very aware that they'll likely be affected by the nuclear explosions caused by the earthquakes.
She and her friends expressed a desire to send my cousins over here to avoid developing chronic diseases from the nuclear fallout. Aunt Yuki believes, though, that she's too old to really be worth fussing over. Her friends have resigned themselves to dying of disease.
I couldn't stop inking the folds of the fabric around the angel in this image. They kept going and going and going. It felt as though I was drawing every furrow in my brow and every wrinkle to etch itself into my face until the day I died. I'm still worried about everything.
In the coming years, my little cousins will come to live here and become U.S. citizens the way my parents and I did before them. I'll have to coach their English and develop their study habits so they can catch up and keep up with their future American peers. Among their peers may be the Alexandra Wallaces of the world, making them feel unwelcome and misunderstood every step of the way.
In the meantime, I may be taking on far too much in school by way of extracurricular activities. I'll be heading out to San Francisco all throughout my spring break on a service learning trip, exposing myself to LGBT history and volunteering at various establishments. My emotional stability has recently become a little questionable, and I'll be heading into to counseling because I may very well have clinical depression. Oops. Before that, I've got an internship to line up, a few little tasks to complete at my job, an apartment to find, and a semester to finish up.
So I suddenly find myself with a lot weighing on my mind an unexpectedly heavy heart, to boot. I just feel heavy. All the time.
And what I really need is a little bit of hope. Something to lift me up a little higher, make me feel a little lighter in spirit.
And so I draw.
So a couple days ago, my scouter got unscouted, and so did I.
Thinking I had done something wrong, I immediately took down all my newer post to make sure I abided by whatever rule I might have broken... like a moron.
Now I don't know if I should post it again or not. Should I just wait on it?
Ah, well. I'm hoping I'll get enough work done in time to just post something new. Good deal.
Since I stopped doing the Lent thing (among all other things Catholic), my guilt had to be shoved somewhere else...
And I immediately felt guilty when I was unscouted!!!
"WHAT DID I DOOOOOO??! I'M SO SOOOOORRRRRYYY!!!!!!!! WWWWWWAAAAAAAGH!!!!!"
Little did I know, it was actually my scouter who had lost scouted-hood and thereby de-scout-ified me by affiliation.
Thank heavens the mods here are benevolent (helpful, nice, encouraging, clarifying, patient, polite, timely.....) and one of them, along with some more experienced NGers, helped me to better understand the way Newgrounds works.
Thank you, thank you, thank you ^_^
Now, to find something else upon which to project my misplaced guilt.
Hmm... I think I just got in trouble... I'm not totally sure which rule I broke. The last piece I submitted was a fanart of a video game series... I credited the developer.... and then I took it down after I noticed something was slightly different about my account.
I originally figured it was because she wasn't my original character, but this doesn't account for the copious amounts of Sonic fanart all over the place.
I'm still trying to figure out how that happened.
Yet, the submission that I had that was featured on the front page is still... there.
The mystery... thickens?
In the meantime, here is my deviantArt.
I really love the art section. It's why I joined up (and also because dA has way too much cosplay on all the time).
There are a ton of really awesome works up all the time, and there's a lot of thoughtful feedback from most of the viewers...
But why is there so much rape going on? Is it a recurring fantasy for male NG-members? Whatever happened to consensual nookie? What's the draw in unwillingness? Does it fulfill some kind of barbaric, primal desire to "pillage and plunder," so to speak? Somebody explain it to me. Even as a guy, I'm a little weirded out.
I just want more sweet-looking robots.
I'm not entirely sure why I ended up here, but I feel like this should be a very interesting place. I believe my roommate recommended me making an NG account because the art portal has quality control (unlike dA), which I really love.
However, as soon as I posted my art, some fifteen-year-old boy who made sub-par Sonic the Hedgehog fanart decides to troll one my images and refer to it as "gay." I was so angry! I was totally un-Zen for a couple days, trying to justify his impertinence and apparent homophobia. They were... not totally successful.
"He's young!......." but my kid brother is his age, and that kid's amazing. That, and I'd only be four years his senior... which, I understand, is a big gap when you're a teenager.
"He's bored!......." but so am I, and I'm not being a douche to random strangers who probably don't deserve it... haha
"He's only human!......." was the excuse I made for him when I knew I was scraping the bottom of the proverbial bowl of excuses for it.
But this morning... the comment disappeared. I mean, the effect of the rating (a ZERO?) was still there, but he was totally gone.
My roommate explained to me that NG was a pretty tight community, and that most users take their stuff pretty seriously. What I didn't realize was that there would be a microcosmic representation of the dramatic struggle between the forces of awesomeness and the forces of douche-baggery.
I now feel like one of those Digidestined, randomly transplanted into a digital dimension and witnessing an ongoing epic fight.
Which is TOTALLY SWEET!
Now I feel dorky.
And I'm cool with it.