Yayy!! My friend Nikki- the one who got bored during the Afro-Americans teasing us -is making a blog. Yayys! So happy :D Make sure to comment when you're done so I know what blog to check!
Edited to add: Here it is! She doesn't seem to be in a good mood right now though *sweatdrop*
Monday, October 29, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
Artistic Hopes
I was thinking about my opinion on my own art today. What I found was rather distressing. No matter how much praise I get, it seems hollow because I cannot look past the mistakes that I know I made.
I find this really sad. I want to make art just for fun, like I used to. I knew I wasn't very good, but I also knew that I was young, and that I would get better. It was very reassuring, knowing that. When I looked at people's art that was better than mine, I knew that they were usually much older than I was. And no matter what people said, I knew that I would get better.
Now I find that I'm getting so much praise that I can't really say I'll get better. I can only feel that I should be much more talented, because I don't feel like I earned it. And when I get criticism, I feel like someone can see that insecurity and I get worried. I can't seem to find a good balance.
Mom's praise is much more solid. She's stuck with me through all of my bad pictures, and my anatomy research, and helped me find references on at least a dozen subjects. She's bragged, she's sketched, she's explained. So when she says, "That's amazing! Excellent job!" I know that she knows that I once was average, and that I've actually improved, that I'm not a genius. It's a wonderful thing.
Other people, it doesn't really count. They seem to think that I am more talented than I really am. When they ask how I did it, I can't bring myself to tell them that I'm not good, just stubborn enough to get through that period that I was god-awful. That I don't really know what I'm doing, that I am just winging it. Rather scary.
One day though, I hope that I can look past that, that I can take praise for what it really is, something to be proud to get. I hope that one day I will be able to look at everything good about a picture, not only the flaws.
Those are my hopes for my future. Even if I don't get anything else, I hope I get that.
And Mom? Thank you. So very much.
I find this really sad. I want to make art just for fun, like I used to. I knew I wasn't very good, but I also knew that I was young, and that I would get better. It was very reassuring, knowing that. When I looked at people's art that was better than mine, I knew that they were usually much older than I was. And no matter what people said, I knew that I would get better.
Now I find that I'm getting so much praise that I can't really say I'll get better. I can only feel that I should be much more talented, because I don't feel like I earned it. And when I get criticism, I feel like someone can see that insecurity and I get worried. I can't seem to find a good balance.
Mom's praise is much more solid. She's stuck with me through all of my bad pictures, and my anatomy research, and helped me find references on at least a dozen subjects. She's bragged, she's sketched, she's explained. So when she says, "That's amazing! Excellent job!" I know that she knows that I once was average, and that I've actually improved, that I'm not a genius. It's a wonderful thing.
Other people, it doesn't really count. They seem to think that I am more talented than I really am. When they ask how I did it, I can't bring myself to tell them that I'm not good, just stubborn enough to get through that period that I was god-awful. That I don't really know what I'm doing, that I am just winging it. Rather scary.
One day though, I hope that I can look past that, that I can take praise for what it really is, something to be proud to get. I hope that one day I will be able to look at everything good about a picture, not only the flaws.
Those are my hopes for my future. Even if I don't get anything else, I hope I get that.
And Mom? Thank you. So very much.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Oriental Genre
Remember Genre, my Peophin? Well, if not, here she is Here and Here.
In one part of her story I mentioned that she had grandparents from Shenkuu, Neopet's China. Also, much of her time is spent as a negotiator of fishing laws, but I had only ever drawn her in her clubbing outfit.
Because of this, and that I thought that Genre looked too Western for her supposed genealogy, I redesigned her. Sooo... Here she is.
That's my (very) stylized last name on the side, but it's so styled that I thought it was safe to post.
I tried a different shading style this time, and it came out well. I experimented with more brushes than usual, so that's good. And I really worked on texture.
That's about it, not much more to say. Soo... Yeah.
Edited to add:
Whoops! I forgot the info! Sorry! Here it is:
Time: 5-8 hours
Layers: (eek) 14
Media: Photoshop Elements with a Wacom Tablet
Size: 175kb
In one part of her story I mentioned that she had grandparents from Shenkuu, Neopet's China. Also, much of her time is spent as a negotiator of fishing laws, but I had only ever drawn her in her clubbing outfit.
Because of this, and that I thought that Genre looked too Western for her supposed genealogy, I redesigned her. Sooo... Here she is.
That's my (very) stylized last name on the side, but it's so styled that I thought it was safe to post.I tried a different shading style this time, and it came out well. I experimented with more brushes than usual, so that's good. And I really worked on texture.
That's about it, not much more to say. Soo... Yeah.
Edited to add:
Whoops! I forgot the info! Sorry! Here it is:
Time: 5-8 hours
Layers: (eek) 14
Media: Photoshop Elements with a Wacom Tablet
Size: 175kb
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Comment Thread
Mom's having some problems with a substitute teacher and I commented on the next post, an update. Soooooo.... Yeah. Happy commenting!
Monday, October 8, 2007
Excuse Me?
Excuse me? What exactly gave you the right to yell at me? What miracle have you preformed that makes you that much better than me?
If you haven't already noticed, I haven't had the best day, starting with lunch.
In my school, you can either eat lunch in the cafeteria or outside on these wooden tables. There are about six of them, and they're pretty ordinary. But some people get possesive about which table is 'theirs'. It's a bit more clear cut in the cafeteria, my group, as small as it is, has their side, another sub-group takes the other. But the wooden tables aren't used much because our school is right near the Carquinez Straights, so there's usually a decent breeze.
The entire thing actually started last week, when my friends Nikki (fellow 7th grader) and I sat down at a wooden table after we finished eating. We had been sitting for about fifteen minutes when a huge group (twelve or so) of black girls came along.
According to them, we were sitting at 'their table' and we had to move.
Excuse me? Madam bitch? We were FUCKING HERE FIRST and that you have NO RIGHT to behave like we are enroaching on your 'property'.
Unfortunatly I cannot say that to them because they are all eighth graders e.g. taller, stronger, faster, and coarser (langauge, manners) than I am. You do not mess with eighth graders.
So instead we politely say, "I'm sorry, I don't want to do that right now."
In response we get a stream of cuss words and threatening behavior. Much of the time is spent saying that we should get up because we are 7th graders and that they are 8th.
Eventually, Nikki gets bored- yes, bored. Nikki is awesome like this -and tells one of the many girls sitting on the table (which isn't allowed, btw) that we'll leave if she says please. So she does, and we do.
Today, we had finished eating. The school library was closed and we had finished our homework, so we started talking about out SSR books.
Then Madam Bitch and her Bitchetts wander over. Again, we are sitting on 'thier table'. Again, we refuse to move. Also, we aren't talking enough to Kim, a shy African American girl who sits at our table. This time, since my friend Karolyn, an 8th grader, is with us, they use a different resoning: we should move/talk because we're white.
Oh. My. FUCKING. God.
We have spent MONTHS covering the Civil War. MONTHS. Slavery STOPPED. DONE (in North America).
So what exactly gives you the right to say that you're better than we are because you're black? Hmm? Give me a reason.
And about Kim: she DOES NOT WANT to talk. I've known her for two years and she's alway been quiet. We try to include her in conversations, but if she doesn't want to speak we don't force her.
This time when we do not immediately bow to their whim, they start cussing at us.
"Move the HELL off of our FUCKING table bitches!"
"Oh, Carolyn, why are you friends with 7th graders? Too much of a loser to find any good friends?"
And, my personal favorite:
"Come on four-eyes, move your butt."
When someone calls someone wearing glasses 'four-eyes', it really is pathetic. I mean, there isn't a more overdone insult in the world. It's not even insulting any more.
The one that really pissed me off was-
"Let me put it the white way: Please get up?"
What.
Who the hell do you think you are? You waltz over here to demand that we do something we don't want to do, then say that being polite isn't in style?
Or that having lighter skin is something to be ashamed of?
This is the Civil Rights movement all over again. People think that the past can govern the future and that it's all right to tell someone that they aren't worthy of respect.
People think that others aren't allowed to do something because of their ethnicity. That if you have skin that isn't dark enough than you have to change your clothing, friends, and speech to make up for it.
That is what the entire Getto movement is, you know. Feeling the need to change from peer pressure.
What's worse is, after the counseler chased- chased, because they wouldn't leave -the gang away, Kim tried to apologize.
I think Nikki put it best:
"Don't apologize for stupid people. Because if you're smart enough to see how idiotic they are, than you can just laugh at them like the rest of the world."
Please note that I only call African-Americans 'black' when I do not like them, this is not normal behavior for me.
If you haven't already noticed, I haven't had the best day, starting with lunch.
In my school, you can either eat lunch in the cafeteria or outside on these wooden tables. There are about six of them, and they're pretty ordinary. But some people get possesive about which table is 'theirs'. It's a bit more clear cut in the cafeteria, my group, as small as it is, has their side, another sub-group takes the other. But the wooden tables aren't used much because our school is right near the Carquinez Straights, so there's usually a decent breeze.
The entire thing actually started last week, when my friends Nikki (fellow 7th grader) and I sat down at a wooden table after we finished eating. We had been sitting for about fifteen minutes when a huge group (twelve or so) of black girls came along.
According to them, we were sitting at 'their table' and we had to move.
Excuse me? Madam bitch? We were FUCKING HERE FIRST and that you have NO RIGHT to behave like we are enroaching on your 'property'.
Unfortunatly I cannot say that to them because they are all eighth graders e.g. taller, stronger, faster, and coarser (langauge, manners) than I am. You do not mess with eighth graders.
So instead we politely say, "I'm sorry, I don't want to do that right now."
In response we get a stream of cuss words and threatening behavior. Much of the time is spent saying that we should get up because we are 7th graders and that they are 8th.
Eventually, Nikki gets bored- yes, bored. Nikki is awesome like this -and tells one of the many girls sitting on the table (which isn't allowed, btw) that we'll leave if she says please. So she does, and we do.
Today, we had finished eating. The school library was closed and we had finished our homework, so we started talking about out SSR books.
Then Madam Bitch and her Bitchetts wander over. Again, we are sitting on 'thier table'. Again, we refuse to move. Also, we aren't talking enough to Kim, a shy African American girl who sits at our table. This time, since my friend Karolyn, an 8th grader, is with us, they use a different resoning: we should move/talk because we're white.
Oh. My. FUCKING. God.
We have spent MONTHS covering the Civil War. MONTHS. Slavery STOPPED. DONE (in North America).
So what exactly gives you the right to say that you're better than we are because you're black? Hmm? Give me a reason.
And about Kim: she DOES NOT WANT to talk. I've known her for two years and she's alway been quiet. We try to include her in conversations, but if she doesn't want to speak we don't force her.
This time when we do not immediately bow to their whim, they start cussing at us.
"Move the HELL off of our FUCKING table bitches!"
"Oh, Carolyn, why are you friends with 7th graders? Too much of a loser to find any good friends?"
And, my personal favorite:
"Come on four-eyes, move your butt."
When someone calls someone wearing glasses 'four-eyes', it really is pathetic. I mean, there isn't a more overdone insult in the world. It's not even insulting any more.
The one that really pissed me off was-
"Let me put it the white way: Please get up?"
What.
Who the hell do you think you are? You waltz over here to demand that we do something we don't want to do, then say that being polite isn't in style?
Or that having lighter skin is something to be ashamed of?
This is the Civil Rights movement all over again. People think that the past can govern the future and that it's all right to tell someone that they aren't worthy of respect.
People think that others aren't allowed to do something because of their ethnicity. That if you have skin that isn't dark enough than you have to change your clothing, friends, and speech to make up for it.
That is what the entire Getto movement is, you know. Feeling the need to change from peer pressure.
What's worse is, after the counseler chased- chased, because they wouldn't leave -the gang away, Kim tried to apologize.
I think Nikki put it best:
"Don't apologize for stupid people. Because if you're smart enough to see how idiotic they are, than you can just laugh at them like the rest of the world."
Please note that I only call African-Americans 'black' when I do not like them, this is not normal behavior for me.
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