Our Skin is Our Freedom

Illustration

dealing with procrastinationThe shower tells me to slow down. It’s the end of the night. It’s time to calm my soul, dress it for sleeping. But I can feel my body still longs in desire for anything that tells me, “you’ve done enough today.” Earlier today I didn’t finish editing that image. The animation is still in the same state it was last week, as are those two emails that are sitting in the drafts folder. I didn’t start on any of the three illustrations I have due soon. I took a nap midday, before I even had lunch. And forgot about half the other things that are on my list of to-dos and to-dreams.

anxiety and self-care
My hands are scratching at the walls that contain me, my skin. It’s so limited to its own time and space. Joined with the warm droplets that are supposed to soothe, but only excite irritation.

My hands don’t stop. I circle in the shower, feeling everything, everything tearing apart, doom imminent, knocking at the door.

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My eyes dart around thinking about everything that I didn’t do that day. In every corner of the stall, associating with each crevice my eyes can find, a different disappointment for the day. All the dreams I wanted to start on, the assignments, tasks, and small self-imposed habits that today were proven that they are indeed not anywhere close to habits.

My hands don’t stop, my eyes don’t stop and my breathing joins in. Anxious, it is breathinbreathingbreathing. Beating to the rhythm of hopes, dreams, pressures, expectations, and fears. Shame and guilt arise in a chest that already feels like it’s drowning. And drowning is not where you wanna be at right before sleeping. And you want to sleep because tomorrow will be an early start. And you can’t stop it. Stop your hands, your eyes, your breathing.

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You stop. For a second your breath stops, holding itself saying: “I’m done. I’m exhausted, tired, done.” And then it lets the breath seep out, with it your whole body slips into that air. You leave with exasperation in the flow of air through your lips, and you come back in with relief.

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You didn’t accomplish everything you wanted today. But you breathed, and you walked and lived. It’s all in that breath, that gives up, it lets go, and everything opens up.

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Your eyes relax, and the eyebrows that were before lifted, finally rest on the knowledge of safety. Your hands stops scratching and decides instead to lay by the side of your thighs. Your breathing is breath, and it is stroke, and it is freedom, and acceptance.

your skin is your freedom - mindfulness
It is there. You’re there. Your skin is your freedom, and your body your temple.

Orange Unicorn – Remember This 11

Orange Unicorn

Orange Unicorn - We Are Body

Sometimes we forget that we’re this body. When we walk through this life we forget to feel our bodies fully, breath, touch, smells, sight, tastes. Feel your body fully. Remember.


 

I’m really proud of this one. Even though I broke several of my own-given rules for the comic. Oh wells. I used reference for it and I feel I should link to that. There’s nudity though, so just be warned of that.

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I've Done Enough

Sem categoria

It’s one of those days where I just don’t want to do anything. Just lie in bed and rest. Relax. I did a lot yesterday; I deserve it right? Well, it’s just Tuesday. Work still needs to get done.

Another pit. Another excuse.
When making art, it feels like there’s never an end to those. Everything seems to be an excuse to just not work that day.

I mean. I’m sitting right now in front of my computer trying to find motivation to do something. Just anything, really. To lift my pencil and make a mark. To open Photoshop and let it out. Whoever said being an artist was easy, didn’t try being one.

I’d like to leave a word of encouragement. I don’t know. Some nugget of positivism. Something that makes it worth your while reading this. But I feel like admitting the truth is sometimes the only thing we can do.BlogQuote05_A

I don’t always want to do art. A lot of times it just feels like another job, another task to get done. Another routine, another cycle.

How do you break that? How do you see art with new eyes, when art is all you see? Maybe go look at some engineering equations, or at the periodic table and memorize a couple elements. Maybe that will do it.

Here it is. A post, a tribute, to that wicked lazy side of life – the one that wants to hold you in your bed and never lift you out of there.

But now I’m off to make some art. Even if it’s horrible. Or repetitive. Or the same and unoriginal. I don’t have any motivation, but I’mma go do it.

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