Anliease

I heard something interesting today, This was from an adult who knew me from a young age. I was described as someone with many passions. One with many talents and who like to pursue them. She listed them one by one but then she called me an artist. Defined me as one, in her own words when I tried to defend myself

“A true artist is not one who can draw, but one who can’t stop”

My “doodles” She claimed were proof of this. I stare at my bag, realizing the one thing I always have was not my wallet, my mp3 or (yes) my cell phone. No. The thing I always had on me was paper, and a pencil. The paper might be from sketchbooks, name brand or just simple computer paper, and my pencil could be numerous things, but it was always there, always ready. I would be always be prepared for that slight chance that I could doodle to my heart’s content.
As a freshman, I remember being yelled at by teachers because of that same white computer paper, I hated drawing on notebooks, the blue lines messed with my head. I was always singled out, with my face drawing blistering red, now I’ve mastered the art of drawing and not getting caught, or the teachers didn’t really care. I did show them respect after all.

Drawing is like breathing to me, plots are my oxygen. So many white papers cover the walls of my room, sketches of my past, no longer good in my eyes, but still have pride. This is my past. This is where I started. Look at where I am now. What do I have to fix now? My bodies? Backgrounds? Eyes? How can I make myself unique compared to others?

Blending in with others, even in real life never matched my personality. I don’t like being like everyone else, neither does my art. I’ve tried and tried to color like others, but I hated it. It didn’t fit. It was to slow. It wasn’t me. I’m fast. I’m quick. How can I find something to match with that? So I searched and searched till I found an artist who spoke to me. I am inspired by XIAO PAN – Benjamin, I love his coloring, and how the lack of lines of detailed lines spoke to me. The rush of it all, like strands of wind dancing in the air. I love it. It spoke. But I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t all me. Just a part. I experimented with photoshop till I found it, till I found me, and now I feel complete.

But now what? That lead me to now, this here. My month of art. Away from all of you. The only one who will ever see my pictures now are the white papers in my notebook and blank spots of my wall. I am going to perfect myself without outside input. I never have seen art as a future for me, but drawing has always been connected to me. I can’t live without it anymore. It’s a necessity, like water, an addiction, a drug I can’t let go. I need it. I need it so badly. I am not the best, nor will I ever be. That’s not my future or my plan, my plan is to live. To survive with this addiction and to bring the joys of my stories to others. I have been shut down with my style by art teachers, and others because of my sketches, because “Anime is not an art form” I’m not going to let that happen anymore.



This girl full of “Doodles” is an artist. And she is here to stay.