I swear to every heaven ever imagined,
if I hear one more dead-eyed hipster
tell me that art is dead, I will personally summon Shakespeare
from the grave so he can tell them every reason
why he wishes he were born in a time where
he could have a damn Gmail account.
The day after I taught my mother
how to send pictures over Iphone she texted
me a blurry image of our cocker spaniel ten times in a row.
Don’t you dare try to tell me that that is not beautiful.
But whatever, go ahead and choose to stay in
your backwards-hoping-all-inclusive club
while the rest of us fall in love over Skype.
Send angry letters to state representatives,
as we record the years first sunrise so
we can remember what beginning feels like when
we are inches away from the trigger.
Lock yourself away in your Antoinette castle
while eat cake and tweet to the whole universe that we did.
Hashtag you’re a pretentious ass hole.
Van Gogh would have taken 20 selflies a day.
Sylvia Plath would have texted her lovers
nothing but heart eyed emojis when she ran out of words.
Andy Warhol would have had the worlds weirdest Vine account,
and we all would have checked it every morning while we
Snap Chat our coffee orders to the people
we wish were pressed against our lips instead of lattes.
This life is spilling over with 85 year olds
rewatching JFK’s assassination and
7 year olds teaching themselves guitar over Youtube videos.
Never again do I have to be afraid of forgetting
what my fathers voice sounds like.
No longer must we sneak into our families phonebook
to look up an eating disorder hotline for our best friend.
No more must I wonder what people in Australia sound like
or how grasshoppers procreate.
I will gleefully continue to take pictures of tulips
in public parks on my cellphone
and you will continue to scoff and that is okay.
But I hope, I pray, that one day you will realize how blessed
you are to be alive in a moment where you can google search
how to say I love you in 164 different languages.
b.e.fitzgerald (Art is a Facebook status about your winter break.)
This is something I want a print of someday.
"Honey" is live! <3
Ever wanted all of my projects, sketches, illusrations, walkthroughs, icons and what have you in one place and in neat little categories? Well, check this out!
Last week I broke my tablet, which is only useful as it made me get off my arse and finally finish this thing. I still need to fiddle a little with the layout and add the remainer of of a surprisingy extensive archive to the Old Art section, but it’s done, more or less.
I would love you forever if you could reblog, or just spread the word. Give me some feedback, tell me if it’s working on your platform and browser of choice. I’m on a PC using Chrome, and it looks and works pretty good for me.
Cons: broke, unemployed, stressed
Pros: almost a solid week free from bedbug bites; perhaps extermination part 2 was a success? The weather’s really really nice, and at least my porch is a great place to hang and job search
Some harsh but very very true words
When people let me review their portfolios (on career day or open days at my game design school) I explicitly ban them from commenting during the review… …because otherwise they will follow the impulse to downplay everything I see in an attempt at being humble.
"this is an old image…"
"I’m not happy with that one…"
"this is just a sketch…"
"I did this really quickly…"
"there is better stuff on later pages…"
It’s totally understandable to have those impulses. The quality of art is not empirical data and therefore impossible to measure. Good art, bad art, it all comes down to standards. And you don’t want to come off as naive or self-absorbed.
But just don’t do it. Don’t talk yourself down in front of others. In the best case you have someone supportive who now thinks “damn, this person needs to be prepped up all the time. Do I really want to work with somebody like that” or in worst case “now that you say it, yeah, this is kinda lame/rushed/unfinished/lazy, go away.”
You can only submit what you have. If that is not enough, then it’s not enough. Your attitude will not change that. But if it is enough, you can do serious harm by not being confident of who you are now.
This means appreciating what you are able to do right now and have a clear vision of what you want to learn, be confident that you will learn it in time.
This is really important. Eliminate this urge. Eliminate it professionally, when having contact with people in a position to buy your work. Eliminate it socially, when you just share your work for fun. Destroy this urge as thoroughly as you possibly can.
Because when you have done that, you’ll find that you feel at least 25% less shitty about your own work. You lose the urge to do it. You stop reinforcing those negative thoughts, and they retreat. They may never go away completely (although they might!) but this is good practice for ignoring those thoughts flat-out.
Don’t shit-talk yourself. Even if you can’t be SO PROUD, don’t ever try to influence anyone’s opinion toward your work in the negative.
Try to love your work. Try to see what you learned from each piece, even if it’s a failure. If you feel that you learned nothing, appreciate the fact that just spending time on it is honing your skills and giving you valuable practice.
i used to be super not-confident in my own work. When I stopped pointing out the flaws in my own stuff, I felt better about it almost immediately.
The piece of advice I got that helped me the most with this is; the people looking at your work be it your director or an HR person, trust them to know and see the good work there that you’ve become desensitized to. We all have rushed shots and stuff, they can see the polished diamond inside of a rock, it’s literally their job! So don’t fret too much!
But women can never be careful enough, can we? If we take naked pictures of ourselves, we’re asking for it. If someone can manage to hack into our accounts, we’re asking for it. If we’re not wearing anti-rape nail polish, we’re asking for it. If we don’t take self-defence classes, we’re asking for it. If we get drunk, we’re asking for it. If our skirts are too short, we’re asking for it. If we pass out at a party, we’re asking for it. If we are not hyper-vigilant every single fucking second of every single fucking day, we are asking for it. Even when we are hyper-vigilant, we’re still asking for it. The fact that we exist is asking for it.
This is what rape culture looks like.
This is what misogyny looks like.
Exterminator came for his 2nd-week check-up today; bed-bug-killing progress is continuing steadily. Still have every cloth item I own in trash bags on the porch. I’d moved back to my bed after the first week of fumigation, but Sunday night I woke up with more bites so now it’s back to the couch for another week. Hopefully this next round of pesticides and vigilant vacuuming will clear them out for good.
"Though women are not the only targets of abuse and harassment in the gaming community and industry, they certainly bear a sad, disproportionate bulk of it. What makes gamers so uncomfortable when women start making or talking about games? I think it comes down, ultimately, to a fear of change. A lot of these people take to games as a way to escape from the lives in which they see themselves as downtrodden or rejected by women - escaping and moaning at other escapees rather than confronting the root cause of the rejection. When women pierce their little men’s-rights bubble of gamerhood and question the long-standing sexist elements of gaming they hold so dear, they see it as an act of vandalism, taking away something that belongs to them. That’s when they become a pack of wolves and set upon the “evil feminists”."