Below (after a bunch of ego-pacifying ramblings) is a collection of art blobs I’ve made over some years. Some of them I’m happy with; others are… of questionable quality. But the point of sharing them is mostly an expressive endeavour, just as this entire site is. I want a place to put outputs of my consciousness, to form a representation of that consciousness, to feel more solid/valid in my existence in the external world, and to invite others into my internal world. Also, I like the idea of documenting creative/mental foci and development of how these foci are represented over time. I find it fascinating. And so another core reason I’m sharing stuff like this is to encourage others to do the same - I’d love to see the emergence of a beautiful, colourful, diverse ecosystem of creative, playful documentation of our internal worlds in our independent thought spaces; it’ll help us colour and diversify the external world :) 🌼🦋
TL;DR: below is an amateur art portfolio that my finger occasionally photobombs.
More ramblings about sharing my mediocre art because I feel self-conscious (about both the art and what may be inferred about me in my sharing of it):
(1) the better stuff makes me feel okay about sharing the bad stuff and (2) the bad stuff makes me feel okay about sharing the better stuff
- because it neutralises the wounded pride of being perceived as totally terrible at arting, knowing some stuff I feel happy with is out there representing my “art ability” (counteracting the stuff representing my art inability).
- because it feels less showy-offy and more like I’m just documenting progress (or stagnant persistence*) in an endeavour to do art.
*This endeavour is in fact currently just stagnant (without the persistence) because I barely ever make art now; this is another reason I’m inclined to share old stuff, in a hope that it will motivate me to reignite my visual-thought-representation (in form of mediocre art) engine. And since practice makes progress (never perfect ☝️🤓), this mediocrity would hopefully decrease with time (if a sufficient proportion of it is spent arting) and hence give more options and fluidity in how I externalise/represent thought.
Also, there’s something unusually satisfying and cathartic about dumping various labours-of-love (or hate) in the form of these little art pieces, in spite of (or maybe because of) how self-exposing it feels.
Stuff from another sketchbook
