Vornag's Happy-Go-Funtime Turbo Ultra Resurrected Hopefully Trainwreck
Inspiration is a strange beast.

One day I can't get myself to lift a finger and the next I spend the entire day staring at the screen and taking not even a single break.

This surely isn't healthy, but the urge to create is too strong to deny.

The truth is I lost track of why I do art and that's a really scary thing for me.

Since I could remember I always adored drawing. Creating something out of nothing is something I found to be the coolest shit ever and I totally wanted to do it. Often times the something I created was absolutely garbage because I never seriously practiced art, duh.

But as time went on and I started to take this remotely seriously I had a clear goal in mind, and that pushed me forward to be better.

Worldbuilding is my favourite thing ever, it's what made me turn to art. I had an idea, I wanted to visualise it. The concept of idea to paper is what got me interested in concept art. The act of figuing out how something looks, how it acts, etc, is something that motivated me so immensely.

The reason I got into art was a purely practical one- to visualise my ideas. The very notion of "Art" (not just drawing or painting) made me cringe as I believed that art had nothing but practical value. The reward of art is the finished product, not the act of creation, the personal catharsis or the idea you're attempting to convey.

Art, for me, was a practical craft. Like making a chair. A chair cannot make you cry and it cannot make you feel emotion.

It's a chair.

But recently something in my brain clicked. And by recently I mean over the course of years. I started to actually care about the world around me. I started to actually care about people.

I used to be a brick that showed absolutely no emotion. I'd say I hated myself for that but I couldn't mind a whole lot. I was a complete shut-in that wanted absolutely no contact from anyone. The way I lived was almost self-destructive and entirely impractical for today's society. I just went about every day with a constant sense of monotony and brainlessly did the operations I was meant to do. To a degree I'm still the same, just that now I have the ability to look at myself with a judgemental eye.

And by shifting my understanding the world came the shift of understanding myself, what I do and why.

For art, the result became meaningless. I don't care for what I create, I care that I am creating.

My motivation waxed and waned, like I mentioned earlier, where sometimes I feel absolutely nothing and other times I can't with good conscience do any other activity.

And with that shift in mentality I started looking at art differently. Not just my own, but also that of others. Art is no longer practical. It's something that moves you, that stirs emotion and motivates introspection.

So when I started the post I said I have no idea why I do art. That's a lie. I know exactly why, but that reason isn't concrete. It's not something I can reliably point to. It's random, it's organic and I can't control it. I can't make myself be motivated when I'd rather just lie down on the floor and wither away.

So if the my motivation behind art is something that's random, how am I supposed to push myself to become better? I still look over my past works and question why they didn't come out they way I wanted them to, but I absolutely cannot get myself to sit down and thoroughly study something. And that's what scares me. Sure, improvement will spring from simply repeating an activity, but I could be a lot better at art by now.

So in conclusion, I have no idea what I'm doing and why I'm doing it. My overarching goal has shifted to introspection and encouraging other people to do the same. I want to be a better person and I want to make the world a better place, but that's obviously no small task. I've always felt this motivation to some degree but now it's coming up more than ever. I'm starting to question the foundations of my own psyche and what I want to do in life.

it's a bunch of existential shit nobody ever wants to deal with, but getting this down somewhere is cathartic to me, and that's really the motivation behind my existence right now. Most every day is filled with existential dread. When I don't feel it I start to worry as to why it isn't there. I'm plagued by an overarching issue I can't fix for good, and I suppose this applies to every person in the world, no matter how radiant they may be.

The worst part about it is when I finish drawing and I make my piece of the day. I'm unwilling to start a new one, so I'm just left hollow and questioning what I should do with my life now. Not even the people that mean the world to me can break me out of that state of misery.

life's just a box of chocolates and I'm just determined to draw coffee every single fucking time. And when it's all out of coffee I start to panic about what I did wrong.

o ya have the picture

Scream at what I'm doing wrong in my sketchbook
it helps a lot

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RE: Vornag's Happy-Go-Funtime Turbo Ultra Resurrected Hopefully Trainwreck - by Vornag - 07-13-2016, 08:56 AM

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