'artist-confessions' is a place for you to share your art troubles and accomplishments with fellow artists and art appreciators! ✿
• Admin A - gerugeru
• Admin B - zombiezeromotion
• Admin S - phenergan
ADMINS IN "TRAINING":
qeius / michinyo / orange-zombie / aparaitre /
Theme by .☆ Kisty
I go to dA’s Newest section to find things to redraw all the time. It’s not an ego thing, as you can tell I’m not much/at all better than the original (depends on what I pick), I just try out things and/or doodle when I can’t come up with something original to warm up with, or I see something I like but there’s something I’d have done differently (in this case, chibi. Just a personal preference that I dislike chibis)
Not to mention it’s great practice for posing, anatomy, color, character design, literally butt fucking everything haha.
But, for obvious reasons (stealing concepts, seems like I’m condescending, being unoriginal and therefore setting back my own art, etc.) I always feel terrible about it. I don’t post it or anything, or even show it to anyone (except for now), but I still feel bad and ughghghghg.
(dont hate me i know im a dick sorry)
Redraw (C) Me (javertsexual)
submitted by -javertsexual
About a year and a half ago, something changed me, changed my life. Something I hadn’t really anticipated happening for a long time.
An arrow pierced my heart, an the archer was an unattainable boy.
I used to hate him, like many others did. I believed the rumors and I jumped on the bandwagon, because back then I didn’t know better. I disliked his swagger, his confidence, his drive and strive to better himself. I was jealous.
And then, I slowly came to realize that he didn’t CARE. What others thought of him, that he paid no mind to the jeers and insults and the way people brushed him aside as if he was absolutely nothing, worthless, useless. All he did was work even harder to prove them wrong, to better himself.
But even that wasn’t enough. Their envy grew, thought his fame swelled as well. He was infamous, the boy taking high school classes in middle school because he was just that intelligent. He hid behind smirks and smiles, jeered right back, counter-insulted, because that was all he could do at the time, seeing as he had so few friends.
And then, everything for me changed when I was paired with him for a project. I was curious about him, though my envy had ebbed little. I wanted to see if the rumors could be disproved, if he was perhaps a better person than he was portrayed as by his peers. We sat across from each other, so it wasn’t hard to time it just right. I sensed him about to lift his head; perhaps to ask a question or something of the sort. Just as he did, I did the same as well, and determinedly stared into his eyes.
And then I melted, because I was taken so off guard by those eyes disarming me. They were dark, unfathomable, like the most secluded corners of the universe, shining with a knowledge and innocence that glittered like constellations.
And I realized that everything everyone had said was untrue, because the boy in front of me was unique. I could see in his eyes that he saw things differently than others, that he calculated his own every move.
And at that moment, my world shifted off course as he became my sun.
Excerpt from my journal:
He consumes me like a raging inferno. Every fiber of my being is attatched to his, and my soul has been wrapped prettily inside my heart and placed in his hands. All unbeknownst to him, of course. He is oblivious to my affectionate gaze, my tender smile, my soft or enthralled tone of voice when I speak about him. How does he not know how gorgeous he is? How pretty he is? How alluring and attractive and beautiful he is? Is it because he’s been told so many times that he’s not that he’s started to believe it?
It sends a pang through my chest every time I see his smile, his smirk, his laugh, and none directed towards me. Even when I am away from him he consumes me like a hungry, oblivious flame and I wonder how long it will be before I burn into ashes. How log it will be before I grow some nerve and douse water onto myself. How long it will be.
It’s not just physical attraction, despite what few may think. Many of those around him would agree with each other on him not being attractive at all …and how do they agree, how are they so blind to him, his allure? But then again, how can I ask this question, when just a few years prior I was as well?
He is an amazing person in general. Intelligence, athleticism, charm, wit; everything. And I am constantly awed by it. He is like a supernova; beautiful, and yet …
Sad. Because, does he try too hard to please? Does he work to hard to maintain his reputation, his impressive resume? Is he happy like this, with whispered taunts and slanders thrown at him, hallway trips, popularity cards always being pulled, constant anger directed him at even the slightest misdeed? Wandering alone until he spots his friends or until they spot him, and wandering alone again once they leave him for something else (though they may return)?
There is so much hatred, so much envy, so much annoyance piled onto him that I wonder how he even stands it at times. To me, he seems isolated; unattainable. He knows he has to protect himself, and that makes everything difficult. It’s so damn hard to read him sometimes, and he always shrouds himself amidst groups. He makes himself comfortable with what is most familiar.
Every once in a while I MUST make a story or art piece based on him. He inspires me, he drives me. I can’t help but touch the paper with a soft smile as I work, even knowing that he won’t see it. He makes me work harder at nearly everything I do in an attempt to make him look at me. To make him see that there is more to me than I project, because he is perceptive and I know he can.
He burns through me so thoroughly, and yet he does not know. He doesn’t see me properly, and that’s mostly my fault. I threw up my defences too soon, believed the rumors, jumped on the bandwagon …I regret that now. How hard would it have been to hust introduce myself to him? …but it’s too late now. You only get one chance to make a first impression, and I suppose my impression wasn’t too great. Now I have to reinvent it, and that’s going to take a hell of a long time.
But even of all of this is for nothing, even if he falls for someone else, I could not resent him. Because I have seen more improvement of myself in the year and the half I have felt this way than any other time, really. He makes me want to strive to do more, to better my skills, and for that I am grateful.
All I want is to see him happy. And it would be even better if I were the one to cause that happiness.
(Sorry for the long rant, I had to let this out. Thank you if you bothered reading this.)
submitted by -Anonymous
Just my 2 cents. Whatever reason you have, you don’t owe people anything. Just do your magic and be happy.
- submitted by Anonymous
I know people don’t agree but its my opinion.
submitted by -Anonymous
i have almost one hundred of sketched writings, but i never get to develop the stories and a just keep adding notes and notes. I feel no one will like them, i don´t show them even to the closest person to me, afraid they will laugh or will feel offended or thoundsand of stupid cataclysmic ideas that won´t let me write.
submitted by -oppairina
PEOPLE DON’T BLUSH PINK
this is my BIGGEST pet peeve. Blood is RED and when it shows through the skin it does not suddenly become bubblegum pink. Seriously. You can do whatever you want but it just annoys me.
submitted by -kaokay
“I love to imagine OCs with their own personalities from people’s usernames and icons.” I guess it’s the combined writer and artist in me (writing is an art too, blah blah blah) but every time I see someone’s username on disqus or anywhere else, I imagine what the embodiment of that username would look like it. Or when I see a portion of a picture in the icon thing, I try to imagine the rest of it. I even had a dream about it but people got shot and their were redneck racists becausemydreamsarebloodyandawful.
I also read the disqus comments in specific voices and those of you who type in all caps frequently are now stuck as this shrill screaming.
Also, picture of gelato because I couldn’t decide on an art picture that was good enough but food always looks good enough.
submitted by -Anonymous
I’ve always been in band in school. I love to draw, but I hear so many awful stories about stuck-up art teachers that I don’t want to take any. Also, I’d rather learn to draw and paint, not make magazine collages, as many of my friends are doing right now. But I can’t help wondering…would I have been any better if I did take art classes?
Drawing by me -
submitted by -Anonymous
(artists you can't confess about.)
★ IF THE ARTIST THE CONFESSION IS ABOUT DEMANDS IT WE WILL REMOVE IT IMMEDIATELY ★