The Question of Realism/What is Art?

You can tell I’m not really “in” the art community — uh, “the art community” here being defined, I guess, by the YouTube art scene, because that’s where I spend most of my time consuming artistic content — because I keep uncovering debates and arguments that I honestly didn’t even know were things.

For instance, I had no idea that “is realism real art?” was a debated topic, but, um, apparently it is?

I was blown away. I… don’t know why, because my time in fannish online spaces has proven to me that literally everything generates discourse these days. I guess because I felt like, growing up, any talk of art, or visits to museum, etc., focused so very much on lauding those works that most accurately represented reality — the paintings depicting flowing hair you wanted to run your fingers through, piles of fabric where you could practically feel the texture, fruits and breads and wine that made your stomach rumble and your mouth water. And we would gape in awe because of how closely it mirrored the subject, because of how precisely and skilled the artist was at directly capturing the scene in front of them.

Don’t get me wrong, we marveled at impressionists and abstract artists and surrealists too, because of their bold use of color, or their composition, or how visceral and unnerving certain paintings were. But there was always a definite sense of awe when confronted with the work of particularly skilled realistic painter. It never even crossed my mind that what I was looking at wasn’t art, you know?

I guess the argument, as far as I can tell, is that while realism is a skill, it’s not so much “art,” as there is no “creativity” involved. The artists aren’t bringing anything of themselves to the piece.

I… again, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I don’t know that I ever consciously assigned a hierarchy to what makes art, art. I don’t think I ever looked at a piece and weighed its worth on a scale using a set of variable metrics. Art was good if it was skillfully done, whether that be what I guess we’d call “traditional technical skill” (i.e., the drawing/painting is realistic and an accurate representation of the depicted subjects), or if was skilled in the sense that it was deliberately and intentionally styled, and showed technical mastery in other ways, such as composition and color. But I never thought of the “skill” and the “art” as being different things.

And going even further, I’ve seen a very popular definition of art being a work that elicits a response. I know, for me, my favorite artists have always elicited a “wow” response in me; something that impressed me on an intellectual (“The technique here is stunning”), emotional (“Looking at this piece makes me viscerally uncomfortable”) or purely aesthetic (“I find this beautful, and it brings me joy”) level. Does that response become meaningless if it’s tied directly to my perception of the artist’s technical skills? Weren’t many of the painters we now consider canonical masters elevated to that level by virtue of their technical talent?

I mean, I supposed I do understand the idea that art should be transformative in someway, but you can very much create photorealistic surrealism, especially if you use a composite of reference images (which is what I do — use a composite of reference images, not create hyper-realistic art, ha. Not even close, my dude). Does that make it more valid as art? Or, put aside surrealism — if someone created a composite image of any kind, drawing on multiple sources to create a scene of their own making, is that a creative endeavor and does it elevate the piece to “real art?”

What makes art, art, to you?


I first became aware of this as a point of contention while watching Temi Danso, who is a hyper-realistic artist as well as an entertaining YouTuber. This is her take on the subject (and her take brings up another good point which is — what if an artist has aphantasia (as my wife does)? Does that disallow them from doing “art,” or does that make them less valid or valuable as an artist? Is there maybe just a hint of ableism hiding away in there?)

June Wrap-up

So I’ve started actually moving again in June, wrapping up several pieces that had been languishing, ignored, on my hard drive for weeks or months. I took a few reference photos for other drawings I want to do in the next few days, and still have several more to take — I realized the other day that of the five A-to-Z redraws I was supposed to do in May, it has taken me until the end of June to complete just two of them. I’m still interested in revisiting several of them, so I will have to do some reference photos for them this week, as well.


Life keeps moving. We’ve been venturing into the Outside World a little more, establishing household routines, buckling down and actually making strides on goals we’ve been talking about for ages. Life has some semblance of order and routine, and we are secure enough within our social bubble to finally be making plans with friends and family again.

I am glad, as I am often actively glad, to live in Massachusetts, where we have more than half the population fully vaccinated (and 70% of the actually elligible population), and a 0.33% positivity rate. I’m hoping the trend continues; I’m liking this controlled return to something approaching normal. I’m liking having something like a life, again.

Stay safe and sane, all.

Ambitious Morning

I woke up this morning, made my bed, did my skin care routine, brushed my teeth, and headed downstairs where Bear worked on his summer academics workbook while I made us omelets, whereupon we ate breakfast, and I cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher, and wiped down the counters.

Mornings like this are incredibly dangerous, because they allow be to labor under the delusion that not only do I maybe actually have my shit together, but that maybe I can 1.) heap more helpings of crap on my Plate O’ Tasks, since I’m handling everything so gosh darn well, and 2.) tell other people how to get their shit together, too!

I am painfully sure I am not technically qualified to do either of those things, but damn it, I’m gonna do them both anyway. I mean, you knew that, right? You knew that’s where this was going?

I started a project ages ago that kept having false starts. It was a YouTube project, a one-person podcast of a sort, and I continue to really like the idea behind it, even if I could never master the execution in that particular medium. The obvious solution — obvious to Present Day Me, who has now had a little bit of distance — is to simply change mediums. I have a blog, and a small but extant blogging audience. Just do the project as a series of blog entries, obviously.

The gist of the project was ways to inspire creativity and to keep creative in the midst of chaos — chaos here being high-levels of everyday brand stress, particularly for those who have low thresholds for that sort of thing. As someone who feels burned out on the reg by the basic expectations of adult existence (wait, I’m supposed to shower every day? Hang on, coffee isn’t a substitute for water? But it’s literally bean water!), I do feel at least somewhat capable of speaking from that perspective, and there have definitely been strategies I’ve used that have benefitted me (ahem, when I could actually motivate myself to use them. But you know, that’s on the individual, right? You can lead a horse to water, and all).

So yes, in the very near, perhaps nigh immediate future, expect a regularly occurring series about keeping creative in the midst of chaos. I will likely be adding links to the entries on my Writing archive page as well, if anyone finds them especially useful and wants to return to them.


As is likely suggested by my chipper ambition, I got all my routine chores done and the house in back to baseline, which means I feel a little more free to be a little more creative again. I spent yesterday taking reference photos and started on that sweet, sweet self-indulgent fanart,* and today I’m hoping to wrap it up, and start to wrap the other two active art projects I still have going, one of which is months old at this point (and which I legitimately forgot about until I had to open my digital art folder on Sunday). After that I have three more pieces conceived of as digital, and then I’m going to take a break from digital art and try doing more sketching and watercolor.

Speaking of watercolor, you all should go check out Emily Artful over on YouTube; I’ve been watching her for about a year now, and she’s always interesting and engaging to listen to, and her art is beautiful. She’s always worth a watch, but in light of the events of the last few weeks (if you are curious and don’t know, it’s easy enough to look up), I thought she was deserving of a little extra love.

Stay safe and sane. I’m back on the wagon with language learning, so I’m off to re-start (it has apparently been five months??!?! So I should probabaly totally restart) my Finnish lessons.

Take care.


*Fanart of Zoga from Worthikid’s animated short CAPTIAN YAJIMA. Kira and I have recently been watching and rewatching all his stuff pretty much non-stop, so they’ve been fresh on my mind again. I’m glad to not have entirely abandoned Tumblr, since there is some great Worthikids art and stuff over there, and I pretty much have a ready audience.

Tangentially, someone (who I can’t find now, because of course) tagged their art of Zoga “a gnc (gender-nonconforming) icon. I don’t even know what gender they’re not conforming to, but they sure as hell aren’t,” and I was like, yes! Yes! Gender goals!

Last Days ’til Summer

So, that whole thing about being less of a stranger, huh?

This year has been interminable. While I’m still immensely relieved that I was able to return to work, I am still reeling at trying to readjust — one day before the end of the year. Part of the problem is that I am already burnt out from everything that came before this transition — the months of chaos, of worry, of literally trying to do two (or more) things at once every moment of the work day, the unpredictable workloads, the constant need for vigilance even when it looked like I might have a ‘free’ moment — and part of the problem is, since being back, I haven’t really been able to settle into a routine. I’ve been shuttled back and forth all over the building, filling in for one teacher after another, subbing because the school can’t hold on to subs right now. I’ve not adjusted to my routine because there has barely been a routine to adjust to.

But it’s almost over. And I’m trying to look ahead at summer goals.

Summer goals are… complex. I, of course, want to maximize my time and use the opportunity to catch up on, shit, everything. Reading, and cleaning, and renovating, and writing, and art, and my son — Jesus Christ, my son. This year has been crap on a cracker for him, with his social outlets snatched away and both his moms haggard and exhausted by absolutely everything. I can’t promise him an exciting summer, since the world is in such a state of (cautiously optimistic) uncertainty, but I should be trying to provide a structured one. A patient one. A kind one.

But that balancing act — my needs vs. my wants, vs his needs, vs his wants — has never been my forte. I get too wrapped up in one or two things, I let too many things fall by the wayside, I promise myself I’ll ‘do better,’ and instead drown in self-loathing and make the situation that more prolonged and painful. I have to navigate a whole minefield of deeply ingrained bad habits and neurodivergences.

And then there is a mess of personal drama. I can’t get into it right now for various reasons, but trust me when I say the mire of that is bubbling away in the back of my mind, the resultant fog clouding my mind whenever I drop my guard.

So there are obstacles, but I am trying to make something of this. Trying to establish some sense of routine and normalcy, and scaffolding for success.

To that end, I’ve been trying to concretize some of my goals – which, as I said, is complex, since “my goals” really encompass things I want for myself, my son, and our family as a collective. They also span from creative goals to schedule goals, to concrete events to attend/activities to do. Given the vastness of all of this, I’ll give my best approximation of my goals as of this moment:

Goals for Bear:

Return to the library. Even if it’s just for curbside pick-up (I don’t feel like trying to wrestle him away from other kids, and if he weren’t hyper-tactile and sensory-seeking, maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but his standard of interaction is immensely rooted in close physical contact and we still aren’t doing that). But still — I don’t know how deeply I got into this, but his testing came back, and his reading and comprehension is at the 4th grade level. So I want to encourage him to do some reading this summer to continue to develop a love of reading to match his ability level.

Find easy-entry crafts and activities for everyday. I’ve started a Pinterest board, because I’m a Basic White Female(-presenting-ish Person), with Summer ‘Bucket Lists’ and activity and craft ideas that don’t require special supplies or planning, so that I’m never scrambling for something to do with Bear.

Get him into a routine. To that end, I added easy to make summer breakfasts to my Pinterest board, so that we can have a cornerstone for a summer morning routine, and bought him academic workbooks that we can work in for an hour or two a day. We also got a Responsibility Chart with customizable chore options, and he and I are making a printable Daily Routine Chart on Canva, in the hopes that, if he is involved, it will make him more likely to do things.

Goals for Me:

Devote at least an hour or two a day to something creative. I’ve been putting off doing basically anything creative for the last couple of weeks because I’ve been so burnt out, but with the whole summer available, I hope to make this a greater priority.

Resume language learning. For me, this means Finnish and Amerian Sign Language. I’m not aiming for fluency in either — honestly, I just think Finnish is fun to speak, and ASL is something I’ve been wanting to learn since I was a kid — but I was making real progress in ASL before the pandemic hit (I was having fun with Finnish, but retaining none of it; to that end, I bought flashcards, so hopefully writing things down will help me this time around).

Read at least one book every two weeks. I’m not a speed reader, but I read roughly a page a minute; an average novel of, say 350 pages should take me under seven hours, which is about a half hour a night over two weeks. That’s so, so doable, right? I really have no excuse.

Clean the house and pick one “focus” chore a day that’s outside the realm of household maintenance. Meaning, I get the house clean, right? And then every day I do my maintenance chores and then pick one thing that doesn’t fall under “maintenance” to tackle. For example, my goal for this Saturday is the downstairs closet. My goal for Sunday is spackling the holes in the walls. My goal for one day next week (going to depend on when I can get to Home Depot) is to paint the wall in the bathroom. A little at a time, no stress, no pressure. A summer full of small tasks will add up to big changes come fall.

Do at least 30 minutes of moderate exercise everyday. That can be using my stepper, playing RingFit, or going for a brisk walk.

Make progress on my Bucket List. Hi, I have a Bucket List over at DayZeroProject. Have you heard of it? Cause I’ve been ignoring it for a long time. I want to take a good long look at it and make time over the summer to work at some of the projects (luckily there is some natural overlap between my summer goals and my Bucket List goals).

It’s a work in progress, but I also don’t want to overburden myself, so I might leave it as is, see how the summer plays out.

I’m just glad to be done. Just glad to be able to rest, even if only a bit. Even if only for a while.

Stay safe and sane.

A-to-Z Challenge: Fox/Fire/Fashionable

No one seemed to know who she was, if the furrowed brows, and the ill-hidden whispers were any indication. Certainly, in theory, that was part of the point of a masquerade, in theory; mystery, anonymity. But in plain reality, a birthmark, a throaty laugh, the twist of a lip in a familiar smile, the cadence of speech — there was littler mystery as to who anyone behind the paper and silk masks were. David had greeted many of the guests by name, wrapped his arms around them in a familiar embrace.

But she… she was different.

“So, how do you know the host?” he asked, sipping his wine when he turned to the table they were sharing. She tipped her head to the side, observed him from below the frames of her red and golf-foil mask.

“Intimately,” she said, a smile twisting the corner of her lips.

He choked. She laughed.

“Sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t resist. But honestly, it’s a long story, and not nearly as interesting as you’d like.”

“Oh? How would you know what I like?”

Her eyes flashed, gold and luminescent in the dim light.

“I have some idea,” she said. The curl of her lip revealed a glint of teeth, ivory white and unnaturally sharp.

He swallowed. She held out a hand, slender-fingered and elegant. Her nails shone crimson and gold like her mask, sharpened to a fine point.

“Come with me and we can see if I’m right,” she said.


Day Six, and one day behind — again. I know, I know, this is a repeat of every year. My brain isn’t working so good right now, guys. I’m in a slump — partly hormone-fueled, I’d wager — and having a hard time getting out. Still, every little step forward is a win. And however unsatisfied I am with any given entry (see the Insta caption for that), I have to keep in mind that it’s all supposed to be conceptual this month. I’m only putting together blueprints in April. Final products will be assembled in May.

That being said, the prose piece here was fully stream of consciousness, and written directly in the text editor as I was assembling this entry, and I’ll be honest — I’m pretty proud of this little bit of writing. It’s been ages since I’ve written anything — let alone prose — but I have been uncharacteristically happy with how the writing for this month has gone so far.

Anyway, in an attempt to get myself out of my mental slump, I think moving around and perhaps some chores are in order, so I will be doing that soon after I hit publish.

Stay safe and sane, everyone.

A-to-Z Challenge: Early/Encouraging/Earthy

It had started with a solitary air plant, the wispy, spidery fronds reaching out towards her like lazy fingers to run along her cheeks unexpectedly as she glanced past to retrieve her keys or her backpack. An unobtrusive little bromeliad, hanging in a homespun macramé pot holder, just above her desk. She thought little of it, though she would find herself idly paging through her notebooks on rainy mornings, before sunrise, her fingers carding through the overgrown leaves as they would through a lover’s hair.

After that it was small clipping left over from store bought herbs; sprigs of rosemary carelessly potted just to see what would spring up, small pewter pots of mint and basil perched on the windowsill overlooking the campus quad. Then, slowly, succulents, robust little creatures that could withstand the days of neglect when exams were in full swing, or the stretches of scatter-brained insomnia when she was assembling the final pieces for her portfolio.

She had barely noticed how far gone she was until Jackie came by one night near the end of term. She looked around, mouth slightly agape, pushing through the wayward striped fronds of a spider plant to enter the living room proper. Callie busied herself with pouring coffee as Jackie slid a collection of old ceramic mugs packed with sprigs of chamomile and sage to make room for herself on the kitchen bench. She sat gingerly, eyes roving around the greenery encroaching on far more of the apartment than Callie seemed aware of.

“So…” she started slowly. “Is this some… like… hedge witchery thing?”

“Some… wait, what?” Callie said, placing a mug of coffee before both of them. She pushed a succulent, it’s fleshy leaves purple tinged, tot he edge of the table to make room. “What do you mean? Hedge witchery??”

“Well,” Jackie said meaningfully, gesturing. “I mean… come on.”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” Callie said honestly. She took a long sip of her coffee, tucking her feet up under her.

“But… I’m intrigued,” she said, reaching out to run her fingertips over the soft edges of a plush plant. “Tell me more.”


Day Five! That write up with literally stream-of-conciousness, though I had the idea for the sketch — or at the very least, wanting to do something with a lot of plants and greenery — since I generated the words, about two weeks ago. I’m not one hundred percent sold on this exact sketch — I think I’d like something with her more “among” the plants, with more a sense of her surroundings and how encroaching the greenery is on the totality of her space — but I like the idea.

Also, it’s really hard not to over-think the sketches and be like, “no, that’s not nearly good enough! I’m not a top-tier artist but I have standards1” I have to be like, “Bitch, chill, it’s literally a sketch, if you even pick this one it’s going to be redrawn completely in May! It does not have to be perfect!”

That being said, onward and upwards. I was definitely in a better place mentally today than I was yesterday, though I am still not at 100%, but I have high hopes for tomorrow and beyond.

As always, stay safe and sane.

A-to-Z Challenge: Day/Dismissal/Direct

Today was a poor mental health day for me; I didn’t sleep much, and everything seemed overwhelming and oppressive. I managed to do a very, very rough sketch, but I didn’t write a vignette to go along with it. However, the prompts — day, dismissal, direct — have very strong sense memories for me, and the scene I sketched resonates with me quite a bit.

When I was in high school, my school building was, for all intents and purposes, on a riverbank. We were not directly on the banks of the river, I guess, but when the river flooded — which was not uncommon in the spring — our school would have to close, because the parking lot would become unusable, many of the roads in and out would become dangerous to navigate, and some of the basement-level classrooms would flood. This would mean, mid-day sometimes, they’d have to call the day and send us home.

This was in the mid-90s, pre-cell phones, and our school had two office phones and one pay phone off the social studies hallway. The lines, as you can imagine, for a school of about a thousand students, were unbearable. So, for those of us who lived within walking distance, walking was often the less frustrating option.

My best friend and I would usually leave together, heading towards my house; now, while the girl in this sketch is wearing a uniform, that’s sort of a conflation of the experiences of my high school and middle school experiences. My high school had a massive strict dress code, but my middle school had a proper uniform. Given how badly the surrounding streets would flood, we would often be wading in Catholic school khakis and buttons downs through knee-deep water, squelching most of the way through the city, along the flooded park, back to slightly drier land and busier streets. The rule was, because our folks hated us walking home through that much and mess, that if we were to do it, we were to take the most direct route to the house, which was about a twenty, twenty-five minute walk.

So of course we routinely stopped at a bodega to grab snacks and pet their cats.

The bodega I remember the most was almost claustrophobically small. There were bins of tostones and bundles of sugarcane on the counter, shelves of Goya treats and soft drinks in the cooler by the door. The huge, tortoiseshell cat would lay on the understocked shelves, watching you out of his one good eye.

We’d stop on the stoop to unwrap gold foil packs of Maria cookies and pop open cans of tamarind soda and guanabana juice. By the time we got back on my house, our feet would be rubbed raw, the flood water staining our pants stiff.

Flood days are among my fondest memories from high school.

Day Four done! Onwards and upwards to Day Five. I think I have up through “K” planned, but this weekend I’ll have to buckle down and load up the random word generator again.

It’s getting later and I have felt exhausted all day. Stay safe and sane, guys.

A-to-Z Challenge: Correspondence/Craft/Contact

I added a row every time I missed you, it said. Stitch upon stitch upon stitch for every lost kiss, every missed movie night, every meal eaten at a place set for one. There were days I was afraid there wasn’t enough wool stocked in all of Vermont to keep up with how much I missed you.

“Sappy ass,” Victoria muttered, her mouth twitching up at the edges. She looped the scarf around her neck, once, twice, the length of it sweeping her feet, spilling over the edge of her bed as she lay down. She held the letter parallel to the mattress, squinting through the one eye not obscured by her duvet.

By the time you get this, we’ll be on the cusp of Spring, Danielle continued. I thought I should send it to you while you could still make some use of it; and honestly, if I held on to it for any longer, there’s a good chance you’d open the door one morning to find the fraying ends of it encroaching on your doorstep. It’s really in everyone’s best interest that I send this out now.

Victoria closed her eyes, breathed in. The wool smelled faintly of the peppermint tea that it had been packaged with, and the cloying smell of Danielle’s ginger and lemon soap. It smelled of morning coffee, and the cedar logs that she’d burn as she worked on her knitting on the couch, the TV on but turned low, bright colors and a low hum in an elaborate pantomime.

One more term, she ended. One more term, and my life will be mine again, ad your again. Ours again.

Ours again,” Victoria repeated. She closed her eyes, gathered the feet of felted wool in her arms and held tight, imagined the curve of Danielle’s back against her chest, the flutter of a heart beat beneath her pressing hands.


Day Three! And, uh, only one day late! This was a “planned outage,” so to speak, so I’m not exactly upset about it; having Sunday off lends itself to being a make up day.

As a reminder, this month I am generating three words to use as an inspiration for a sketch and a short written vignette. The ones that I like the most will be taken and fleshed out — the sketches turned into proper full digital art pieces, the vignettes fleshed out into proper short stories — in May. I’ve got to be honest, this is the most enthusiastic I’ve been about an A-to-Z in the last several years.

I’m neither in love with not particularly upset about this entry; I like the quaint idea of writing actually, posted letters to your love; I kept penpals for years as a young adult, and well into adulthood (I was collecting snail mail penpals via LiveJournal well into my 20s), but I feel like no one does that anymore. Which is such a shame. Who doesn’t like getting mail?? Still, of the three I’ve done so far, this is the one I’m least attached to.

Hope everyone is doing well in their challenges. I don’t anticipate this is the only art I will complete this month — I’m currently working on a digital piece, for example — but I’m also not going to force the issue, either, since May is going to be a busy month already, though I’m actually really looking forward to it.

Stay safe and sane, everyone.

A-to-Z Challenge: Boat/Beach/Business

“Hey,” Dara says, shouldering her cell phone as she dug her back foot deeper into the damp sand. “Make it quick, I’m wrist deep in salt water here.”

“Oh God, Dara,” Chris’s voice is choppy, the wind breaking against receiver like the waves again Dara’s feet; he must be on the road. On a call, on the road, with the top down — that sounded like him. Poor reception was an easy out if the conversation suddenly wasn’t going his way. Typical Chris.

“Dara, please tell me you aren’t still running that gross bootleg seafood racket,” he said. She could hear the sneer in his voice, which was rich, coming from someone who, up until two summers again, would be right next to her, holding the goddamn bucket. “I hope you have a good lawyer lined up, Dee, because eventually you are going to find yourself on the recieving end of some kind of food-safety lawsuit.

“Chris,” she sighed, tipping her bucket to let the tide wash in a particularly lazy crab, “I sell sea food out of the back of a hatchback. I’ve got a goddamn pressure cooker in the backseat and a Polar cooler full of condiments. If people can’t tell this is a caveat emptor situation, then that’s on their fucking heads, quite frankly. Tell me — If you were the guy who got sick eating steamed crabs out of a nineteen-year-old trunk, are you gonna fucking admit to it?”

Chris hummed.

“Fair point,” he admitted.


Day Two! Late on this one because Friday nights at my house are “family sleepover” nights; my son climbs into our bed, and we watched movies, play online games, and listen to the radio until Bear falls asleep. Since post-Bear’s bedtime is when I generally do my art, that didn’t happen last night.

Anyway, this one is fun; I like the idea of illustrating something more oriented in space, something that would require me to attempt an actual background, but by the same token, I feel like sand and water is going to be a bitch to draw. Anyway, to once again refresh what is happening, I am using a random word generator to some up with three words a day to inspire a sketch and a brief snippet/vignette. In May, post-challenge, I will choose my five favorites to expand into a full-fledged illustration and a longer, more thorough written story.

Going to post the “C” entry tomorrow, as a means of catching up, and be back on track for Monday.

Stay safe and sane.

March Wrap-up & TDoV

This was such a productive month for me; and with actually perfect timing, I’ve run short on fully-formed art ideas, and tomorrow begins the A-to-Z Challenge where upon I will be creating sketches and vignettes based on words from a random word generator. My five favorite sketches will then be expanded upon and developed, and that will be my task in May.

For those interested, I will likely be streaming at least some of my A-to-Z efforts at twitch.tv/rarelytidytwitch. My streams are for self-motivating and are generally quiet unless people come in to chat. Happy to talk to people who show if they are in a chatty mood!

Also, before I go, let me also say — happy Transgender Day of Visibility! Friendly reminder (or introduction, for newcomers), I am genderqueer and married to a lovely trans woman, so we spent today on social media making ourselves as visible as possible!

(All these images are slightly cropped due to Insta’s 1:1 images ratio. Full images can be found on my DeviantArt, linked under the Art menu).