With Pride Month coming up, here are some works by an actual Queer Latina. Instead of lining the pockets of some corporation in some misguided, appropriating attempt at Pride, buy my art. I’m a Starving Artiste(tm), ok? Alternatively if you are also broke, you can share this link and help me get that Cis Gay Disposable income coin.
A quick (for me) drawing dedicated to Puerto Rico and Puerto Ricans, on the island and the Diaspora.
I spent the few days before Thursday Night Faction this week, trying to decide whether or not I should even go. You see, last week after faction, the fact that my Remicade had been delayed made itself felt. Strongly.
Strongly enough in fact, that on Friday evening, I finally caved and begged my roommate to take me to the hospital. My pain was too high to manage on my own, and my constant trips to the bathroom made me start to worry that C.Diff might have decided to come back into my life… and guts.
The three days I spent in the ER were ridiculous. Due to a massive influx of flu cases, there were no beds available at the hospital. Despite deciding to admit me that same night, I never actually made it out of the Observation wing.
Because of the pain I was in, I decided to go to the closer hospital, rather than the usual one I was in. The GI staff on call at that time has their primary specialty be the liver, so they really weren’t sure what to do with me. Sadly, it showed. Had I known this at the time, I would have written out for them exactly what to do to get me better enough to send me home, but unfortunately, it wasn’t really till Sunday night, that I realized that I wasn’t really being treated… at all. They were just running tests but not actually taking care of what was going on.
Tonight was the second week of Season 2 of the factions.
Earlier this week, I received a proper 3-set of knives. They’re Cold Steel brand, meant for sport throwing, and made out of 1055 Carbon Steel: a slightly higher grade of steel for knives, better able to handle impact without breaking or chipping.
I can’t help always wanting to personalize things, so I decided to paint them. Since the place is called In the Air Guild, I decided to go for a bit of a Fantasy Elements theme: A siren for water, a fire elemental for fire, and Medusa for earth. The Air comes into play when they’re thrown. Continue reading “Faction Night the Second”
The past few months have been a struggle. As you know, my ex and I split this summer after 7 years. Over the past few years, I’ve come to rely on my partner to help me with household chores I find difficult because of pain. Being newly single has meant trying to handle those tasks despite my impairment.
The result has been varied.
Things like laundry, in particular, are difficult to manage. Between the actual motivation barrier imposed by executive dysfunction as well as ADHD, and the physical burden of carrying a heavy load downstairs, bending over to both pull out clothing from the hamper and to put it into the machines, transferring the whole thing into dryers, hauling it back upstairs, and then standing and folding – it’s been a hassle and a half trying to get it done in a reasonable time period. This week even, I had to ask for help in getting it done, since my back just couldn’t handle it.
Other things have managed to become a bit easier thanks to the help from my new roommate in making things more accessible.
For the past month, we’ve been working on trying to consolidate our things while still leaving enough room in the kitchen to actually prep food. This has meant countless hours, designing and building shelves, installing pegboards, trying to figure out appropriate storage containers for all and sundry. Because of my new roommates schedule, it’s been a strange mix of two days a week of being able to unpack and consult together, followed by the rest of the time being the only one home to try and make sense of things.
In addition to trying to organize and manage the common spaces, I am still working on my room/office. Trying to organize things so that I can easily manage by ADHD, work on writing, switch to artist mode, work on some home improvement task, and record videos, all while keeping in mind my difficulties with frequent bending, lifting, and also making space for things like sleeping and having clothes, has been a challenge. Trying to balance all that with still having to get things done involving my various art supplies, has been particularly entertaining to navigate.
I feel like I’ve been living out of boxes and mess for months, though I haven’t stopped working on cleaning and organizing in all that time.
As the holidays approach, many people want to help out their friends who are artisans. Unfortunately, for many of us, money is such a big restriction that it can feel impossible to do. Realistically, for many struggling artists – making sales can be the biggest actual help. Not only does it help pay for necessities, it also provides additional validation, and so on. However, when most of your friends are also struggling artists themselves, then it can be a case of just honestly not having the money available to buy something yourself.
I’ve faced this concern from both sides: the broke friend AND the struggling artist who is desperate to make sales. Not only this, but I’ve faced the problem as an artist of multiple different media: writing, storytelling, music, painting, jewelry making, cooking, and so on. Sales can also mean a variety of things: patrons, clicks on ads, views, registrations, physical sales, and so on.
With this in mind, I thought that I would share a list of 6 Things You Can Do that don’t cost money, but that can help generate more sales and go a LONG way towards helping an artist sustain themselves.
… wire that is.
I’ve recently restarted making jewelry out of semi-precious stones and beads. It’s been a fair amount of work, and you would not believe the blisters I’ve developed on my fingers. It’s been an interesting lesson, and a good way to disconnect from time to time. Just focus on moulding the wire.
Here are just a few of the pieces I’ve made so far.
CN: This Post includes mentions of assault, drug use, and body image issues
On May 14th, I finally managed to get my first tattoo. Ever since I was a kid, I had an obsession with drawing pictures on myself. Whenever I was able, I would get henna tattoos of various sorts. I loved the idea of wearing art on my own skin.
Growing up, my parents would appreciate the art, but still disapprove of the whole concept of tattoos. They believed them to be irresponsible, silly, and a waste of money. They made the jokes that have become a social trope, about the hilarity of aged skin and what those tattoos would look like on a senior. It’s not uncommon to hear boomers of all sorts complaining about them and about the people who get them.
Until I was diagnosed with Psoriatic Arthritis and lost major functionality in my legs, I expected to grow up to be a doctor. If not that, I at least expected to be a professional of some sort. I knew that I would be doing myself if I got a tattoo somewhere visible, and so I made myself a deal: I wouldn’t get a tattoo until I turned 25. If I still wanted it by that point, then it was something I truly wanted and could find a way to make it happen.
As a result of all the different things going on with my body, not to mention our financial situation, finding clothes for me to wear can be really difficult. For some time now, I’ve been strongly considering starting to make my own clothes. In order to do a better job of this, I’ve been wanting to make a bodyform out of my own body shape.
I’ve been looking up different ways of creating one. There are tons of ideas out there, including ones using plaster, duct tape, insulation form, all sorts of ideas. I decided to combine all of these different ideas in the hopes of creating something fantastic.
At the same time as doing mine, I decided to also make one for Alyssa. For all that people give her lots of clothes, there are some pieces that she has always wanted but couldn’t afford. I thought it would be fun to also have a form of her shape, so that I could potentially make them for her.
I decided to start with hers, and while I suspected this might be the case for some time not, I finally had to admit defeat. Her bodyform was a disaster. First we ran out of tape. Then the foam wouldn’t set. Then the top foam sank into the foam that wouldn’t set. Then the whole thing ended up very tilted. Finally, the plaster would not stop crumbling and the whole thing finally fell apart today resulting in a dusty and crumbly mess.
In my last storytelling post, I wrote about how a lot of my paintings come with stories of their own. I usually just let it stay in my head, but I thought I might have some fun and actually tell you, dearest readers, some of the stories.
Medusa is considered a monster, she is assumed to be so ugly that just looking at her face turns you to stone. But before she was ugly, she was beautiful. She had long lustrous hair, which is why it was changed in order to punish her. Her gorgeous locks turned instead into hissing snakes. But in her metamorphosis she went from being a victim to being a being of fear. Sometimes it is in change that you find yourself. For Medusa, metamorphosis is the meaning of her life, her own change and the change she brings on others. She commemorates this with a tattoo of a flying butterfly on her shoulder.