Color and style

This morning I had this horrendous feeling that I’d lost my motivation, excitement, spark, whatever you’d call it, that thing that makes life exciting that leads one to pursue to the ends of the earth. Without that feeling I, as an artist and as a person, am lost. A bottomless hopelessness. 

I got through my first art class alright, surly but alright. My second one cheered me up. For context we’ve been working on a double color piece since last week. Two illustrations with the same character on the same piece of paper, but with two different “moods” and “color pallettes”. I’d been dreading it all week. Traditional color art is a creative nightmare of mine. I spent hours trying to do color mockups for the pieces and made it into an even bigger nightmare. 

I’m not sure what happened. I was sitting there determined to not mess it up this time. I expressed my doubts to my teacher and she told me to just apply the theory I already knew to the piece. Something just... clicked. A will. A determination. I stopped caring about the anxieties. I just worked, and it worked. 

Something to be proud of. I hope.. hope that I can finish it to the same quality. I’ve only finished a little of one piece, as I worked very slow as to not rush myself, and carefully. I’m actually okay with how this one’s turning out. 

A friend(?) of mine from the class also talked to me about my style. I’ve been having style struggles for who knows how long, sometimes I feel I don’t even have one because all I can ever see in my art is what makes it average, not what makes it unique. She talked about how I have this beautiful neatness to my inking, how it’s super detailed, and I realized she is right. I also have a soft, relaxing and storybook way of coloring, and I like working in dark settings with a single light source. So, perhaps I do have my trademark, my piece carved out of the world pie. Today I worked with warm colors for the first time on a full illustration, something I’ve been terrified of for a long time. 

I’m incredibly tired now, my dad had to pick me up we drove an hour and sat awkward and alone in a restaurant for a good while before my mom arrived. Even being near him these days drains me. And the restaurant had two huge parties of people right next to us, screaming children, louder than loud. I have a headache, cannot believe how drained I am. When I feel unwell I forget good things. So I write them down.