PAN-DIDILLY-UMTIOUS

Year, 2020. Ten months and eighteen days into an American pandemic and finally my otaku lifestyle has emerged(use of Japanese from reading all my Princess Jellyfish manga series again). All those typing classes in middle school and film office work that required me to send emails and call folks without ever leaving the desk for thirteen hours; the normal work hours on films and television shows. What I mean is I am comfortable with a computer. I have tested negative.

My newest struggle, since quitting my retail job to relocate, is managing my time. My schedule is a variation of these actions. Step one wake up, maybe collect leaves on my work out, illustrate my second comic book Wild Woman, read my e-textbook for my Environmental Studies class, press petals, landscape work, sand large resin piece, cook dinner, veg on more screens and finally bed. I really enjoy this schedule. I recently got an email from an old friend about doing a virtual real through of a play. I am giddy with excitement. My acting has gone to shit with lack of theatres, agents and auditions. To be able to read, feel, and emote emotion with others in dramatic fashion brings the pink back to my cheeks. Some actors are able to get booked, noticed and hired. I however, recently just found enjoyment in the art form itself. It took me a long time to find my true attraction to acting. It took being dropped from an agent for the first time in my life for me to be secure in knowing for a fact that I act for the fun of it. I signed onto plays after I lost my media agent. I was devastated and had to find something to make me feel whole again. That was the stage. I kept challenging myself and forcing myself to rise to the challenge. I screwed up on my second stage appearance in a short comedy and dropped a whole 3 pages of dialogue! I learned how to fuck up on stage and show up the next night to NAIL IT. Soon play directors were asking for my information and of course I had my headshot and resume ready. I was ready to challenge myself before the play houses were shut down.

Without the harshest 'failures' I would not have had a chance to rise again, stronger and more experienced in how to handle myself during struggle. Without it I turn to other art forms. I write movies/comics I would like to see. I think of shorts I could shoot with friends. Then I get to scared to talk to anyone who would shoot with me due to the otaku of the pandemic. I wish not to expose anyone to anything viral nor myself. I just want to create.

During my time I have began digitally illustrating my own comics to keep myself moving forward while sitting still. My comic Wild Woman is about what will happen to humans in the future AFTER global climate chaos. What machines we exist and how humans have to survive in a new ecosystem. The protagonist is a she/her/woman who has always felt more comfortable with nature than humans. She is paired with her mechanical partner, Mer, who's only job is to keep Wild Woman alive, which is no easy feat in this new earth.

Another proud moment was when I finished my ninth piece of petal art. I am trying to experiment with cloth and how to translate fabric into flower petals. My latest piece is called,

'Death Shroud'. During the fall I take walks in New Mexico's landscape and collect flora and fauna. This fall I was inspired by the cottonwood leaves and how they look like gold.

'Death Shroud'

Medium: Petals(Rose, Plum, Cottonwood), Glass

The bones are made of rose petals. The dark colors in-between the ribs are that of plum leaves. The gold that wraps around it all are cottonwood leaves.

Since this pandemic I have come to terms with my creative self. My imagination is fully intact and a lot of people don't understand how that feels. 'I can make worlds in my head', is the easiest way to explain it. Creating feels like an urge that I have to pay attention to. It never feels like I have enough time to work on my own art. I feel like I'm cheating on the relentless journey to more money. The struggle to get better things than the things I have. To buy more things. I struggle with my materialistic self but I also control that bitch. Fuck having things. Start making things. Not cheap worthless, synthetic things. 'Create art' is my new mother freaking mantra.

Also, 2020 feels like if you plucked your eyeballs out, poured bleach into your eye sockets, shook the liquid around so it get's to touch everything back there, then leaning forward allowing all that bloody liquid to fall out staining the white carpet your standing on. Then shoving your eyeballs back into your head, standing up and smiling as one teeters on the edge of your eye skin before falling out making a splash as it hits the floor. Who agrees?