So of course, weeks after expressing hope and optimism about the way COVID was trending…. well, you know.
I’m still incredibly happy to live in Massachusetts, where 75% of the adult population is fully vaxxed, where my kid’s school district and my own district both have mask mandates, where my city is doing block party vaccination clinics.
But yeah…. even here, it still sucks.
Right now, I’m trying not to panic about Bear’s return to school — I’m hammering into his head, with probably annoying regularity, the necessity of keeping his mask on no matter what — and checking literally ever two to three days for updates about vaccines for his age group. They still think they might get emergency authorization for 5 to 11s by Sept./Oct. and if that’s the case, then we will just hold tight and muddle through until then. Fingers crossed.
I do wish they were offering in-person classes as an opt-in model, which would give parents flexibility and keep the numbers down — I would likely opt-in, myself, since the last year of online school ended in a near nervous breakdown for me, and a child on meds and enrolled in therapy, so clearly online school wasn’t exactly working for us.
Anyway. I’m trying right now to focus on those things that I actually have some control over. I’ve been producing less art lately, but the quality of said art I think has made a sharp and noticeable improvement.
I’ve been seeking out zines to apply for, and have two on the horizon that cater to very niche interests of mine, both of which are still in either the interest check stages or just closing out mod apps. I’m guessing I will need to apply, so I’m pretty happy that I have a few prides of work to send in when the time comes.
We have been keeping active in out safe circles — we’ve had a few game nights, some sleepovers, a few play dates, and some visitors. Life goes on, I suppose, and I’m hopeful for better times ahead.
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?)
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).
What differentiates the rundown from the wrap-up (which I’m angling to post on the 31st)? Basically, I thought it was time for a check-in, but don’t want to post any of the work I’ve completed in March until the actual end of March. The 31st will be the official “wrap-up” where I will post the pieces I completed this month. And guys, I’m going to be honest, I’m pretty excited about my output this month already, and I still have nearly a week left.
Most of — hell, actually the more I think about it, it might actually have been all — most of the work I’ve done this month has been digital. When our stimulus checks hit, we knew we wanted to spend at least part of them on something frivolous, as we have been lucky enough that there were no bare-bones essentials that we were lacking. So I bought myself a Surface Pro.
Now look, I have been having a good time with my Huion tablet. When I first bought it, I was unsure how much I’d like it — I hadn’t used a tablet since college, and back then it was my sister’s old Wacom, which functioned a lot like the Huion. Both are traditional drawing tablets without their own displays, which requires a separate computer/device with which to draw. I remember at 18, not being especially artistically skilled to begin with, and well mired in what would become a lifelong struggle with the habit of abandoning things I was not immediately good at, not loving the physical disconnect between what I was doing on the tablet and what was actually transpiring on the screen.
I don’t know if something improved between then and now in terms of the quality of the product — the tablet’s responsiveness or sensitivity or whatnot — or if it’s just my own changing attitudes and priorities (including the fact that I spent my own money on my tablet, unlike the one that my parent’s bought when I was younger, so I felt a much more pressing need to actually get use out of it), but that disconnect meant less this time around. I still felt residual pangs from it — I still preferred to sketch on paper — but it was something I started to get better at.
But then the stimmy hit, and my laptop, despite being only two years old, was — quite frankly — trash (and often co-opted by my son, anyway). So why not treat myself? So then I got the Surface Pro. And drawing directly on the screen? Ugh. A fucking dream come true.
It’s made everything so much faster. Since Monday, I finished three pieces. Like, from reference pics (which I took myself) to sketch to scan to ink. Three pieces. Done.
I am still primarily sketching on paper — I just like doing it that way, which is fine. The extra step of scanning isn’t a problem or especially time consuming, but I’m considering doing some sketches directly on the Surface for A-to-Z next month. I’m also considering streaming my sketching sessions on Twitch — I recently got a Twitch account and have been streaming my drawing to an audience between one and five at any given time, ha ha, but it’s fun and it holds me accountable (and it’s attracted my sister to the streams, who used to be the artist between us and still likes the process, even if she doesn’t have time for it herself, as well as my sibling-in-law, who is currently living in Ireland and it likewise an artist).
Anyway, if anyone is interested in following my on Twitch, I’m at twitch.tv/RarelyTidyTwitch. I don’t have a set streaming schedule, but the hope is, “most night, around 8 pm EST.” I won’t be streaming tonight, or tomorrow, but if I’m feeling up for it after my second dose of the Moderna vax on Saturday, I will be.
My wife and I are having a date night to watch the new James Acaster special, so I will sign off.
Wait, I…. didn’t I just do one of these? I was a little less than a week late getting my January write-up out, and February is a short month — two facts, both of which I was aware of, but — holy hell, that went fast.
February was sadly not especially productive, art-wise. I started a few sketches that I’m going to turn into more finished pieces. I think there are four of them total, three of which I’ve posted as WIPs on social media:
The dandelion eyes one is what I’m currently working on digitally painting, and has been the bane of my existence for over a week. I was experimenting with different kinds of shading on it, none of which were turning out right. I’m not saying it was a waste, because I definitely learned some things about how to shade skin, and about how I, stylistically, may want to utilize these techniques (or not) from piece to piece. So, it was definitely a worthwhile experiment, but in the end I wound up scrapping two layers of shading that took, all told, probably about eight hours, and that unquestionably does something to your morale, to see that work go down the drain (even if the skills you learned can be used elsewhere later).
To be honest, most of my brain space this month was taken up trying to schedule my COVID vaccination! My district let me know that because of my position in specialized programming, I qualified to get vaccinated — I just need to set up an appointment. Which, if you’ve attempted it yet, is far, far easier said than done. Massachusetts has a fair number of vaccinations sites, including one about a mile from my house, which was exciting to me until I saw that it was booked literally through the next phase of vaccinations. There were waiting lists at the two next-closest locations, and the openings for the MassVax cites went as quickly as they showed up — a slot would open at Fenway when I refreshed the vaxfinder page, saying it was updated “just now,” and by the time I clicked through, they were booked solid again. I’d get notice of a dozen openings at the Doubletree, and when midway through registering, was told someone got there quicker.
There were tears, I’m not going to lie.
This past Tuesday, I was waiting to start a round of consultations I do twice a week just before 10 am. I was antsy and looked at the clock; I had about a half hour before I was meeting with anyone. So, almost idly, I loaded up the VaxFinder.
There were 1100 slots just opened at Gillette Stadium. For a Saturday.
I leapt on that so fast, I swear to God, I think I got literal fucking whiplash.
By the time I was finished booking — a process that took maybe five, six minutes? — they were booked up again.
But I got it. I made it. I got my first dose of the Moderna vaccine yesterday, February 27th, at 11:30 am.
My next dose is March 27th, also a Saturday, and about a week before my wife should be qualified to get her own first dose. I’m ecstatic. I know this isn’t the end — this is the beginning of a slow re-opening of our lives. We will be wearing masks for the foreseeable future (I am a-ok with that), we will still be limiting our social circle and checking in with folks before we go to see them, but there will be a little more space to — literally and figuratively — breathe.
The EMT giving me my shot yesterday (an actually really cute young thing named Sean): Is this your first dose? Me: Yup! Him, throwing his arms up in a celebratory gesture: Such an exciting day!
It really, really was.
Here’s to a more productive March.
Stay safe and sane. And if you can — get vaccinated. It feel so good to breathe again.
I started this year off determined to take more risks as a creative.
There have been ups and downs to that this year, obviously. I feel like my writing has been seriously neglected, but that, to be fair, was a conscious decision; particularly since quarantine began, come day’s end, I feel so mentally burnt out that writing is not enjoyable, it’s frustrating and stressful. Drawing and painting feel much more a function of muscle memory, something I can not only do on autopilot, but something that actually seems to turn out better the less I think about it.
That being said, I did do a little writing, something along the lines of twenty or so poems, several of which I’m actually rather fond of, and in the meantime, my drawing and painting skills have grown in the leaps and bounds.
Not to say I’m “skilled,” by the by. I have quite a long way to go. But I’ve definitely grown.
Towards the beginning of the year, when this new philosophy of creative growth was still fresh in my mind and was something I was still enthusiastic about, I took what felt like a huge leap for me and submitted three drawings (which, looking back even from nine months on, are so much more rudimentary than what I’m currently producing) to a local art exhibition that was supposed to be elevating the work of women, femme, and non-binary artists in my community. It was an exciting prospect, and while I was almost sure I wouldn’t get selected for the exhibition, I figured the experience of submitting, even if I got rejected, would be good for me. So I submitted a week before the deadline.
Five days after submitting, we went into lockdown. The gallery show was listed as postponed. My city has since never left the red zone, and no mentioned has ever been made of what became of the exhibition plans.
I was bummed out for ages about losing the chance to get either accepted or rejected; it felt like I took this leap — which was comparatively small, but for me felt emotionally huge — only to be left in limbo. I didn’t know when I would get the opportunity to put myself out there again.
Then, last month, a mutual on Twitter (hi, I have Twitter! I have like, 19 followers because I’m still learning not to just be a lurker, so it’d be awesome if you wanna be Twitter buddies or whatever) began taking applications for a Tarot project for body/fat positive artists, with the project benefitting a charity for trans/nonbinary/gnc BIPOC — I mean, honestly, how could I not apply?
As I saw more and more people express interest, and I saw the art they produced, I became pretty well convinced that there was no way I was going to get in. And that would be okay! The applicants were all super talented, I’m just starting out, and it would be okay. But I picked the three piece I was most proud of, filled out the application, and sent it in.
Yesterday was the day when the artists were contacted.
I didn’t hear anything most of the day. I was trying to feel comfortable with the presumption that I had simply not made it.
It was around 8:30 pm when the email came. I didn’t make the cut. I was honestly… fine. A little let down, but the knowing will always, for me, be better than not knowing. Onward and upwards. That was my response. I would look for the next thing (but still planned to pre-order the deck when it came out, obvs. Fat Tarot is a fucking awesome idea, full stop).
At 6:00pm today, I logged on and had another email.
Acceptance — disregard last email.
There had been a mix-up.
I was in. I am in.
And while I’ve spent so long coming to terms with and accepting that there is no such things as a “fake” artist — that an artist is someone who produces art, regardless of quality or subject matter, and who lives their lives in a creative way — there is no way to deny how uplifting some external validation of your efforts are.
In an attempt to get back into reading while still pursuing my Special Interest of the Moment, I (digitally) took out a couple of library books about art. The one I’m working through right now is called Show Your Work, by Austin Kleon, the author of Steal Like an Artist.
I have this perpetual concern that I don’t complete enough work to ever gain any credibility as an artist, or that I don’t have the raw talent to ever confidently call myself one. I came late to the game in terms of doing art; or, at least, in the corners of the internet art world in which I lurk, it certainly feels like I have. Realism is not really something I strive for; I think I would like trying to dip my toes in it at some point, but I really loved more stylized, illustrative works, so those are the sorts of artists I’m following. People who produce webcomics, independent illustrators, character designers.
And, oh my God, so many of them are so young. Decades younger than me, sometimes. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen years old, with a few years of consistent practice under their belts. Then here I am — pushing 40; having stalled out of drawing entirely at about fifteen, with very little consistent practice even before then; two years into teaching myself to draw, with myriad gaps and fits and starts in between.
And I know it shouldn’t be discouraging. I know. I know the factor that separates us really is time — time devoted to learning techniques, to practicing, to actually doing. I can see the progress I’ve made it two years, even with all the interruptions I’ve had; imagine what I’d be doing if I didn’t have a full-time job, a child, the responsibilities of a household, raging ADHD…?
So every once in a while, it’s nice to get a reminder like this:
There’s this idea that’s hard to shake, that I’ve spoken about extensively before, that you’re not an artist until to reach a certain level of skill. But remembering that artists grow and evolve, and that even mediocre artists are artists — I’m defined by the act of creating, not the quality of the art I create. And the more art create, the better that art will be.
I mentioned to my wife today — this year has been markedly different from the last few. This year, my periods of “art frustration” — feeling “empty,” feeling like I have no ideas, or no inspirations — have been unusually few and far between. They haven’t been non-existant, of course, but the bigger impetus to my output this year has been general stress and ambient chaos — and frankly, I am just going to put it out there that I feel like most of that has been well fucking warranted.
But I’ve had ideas. I’ve had a steady flow of thoughts and projects that I’ve wanted to work on. I’ve pushed writing to the backburner for now because art for my in more muscle memory, and with how crazy the world has been and the toll that has been taking on my mentally, that seems like it’s for the best, but I’m even starting to have ideas for writing projects again (I fully intended to start NaNoWriMo — ha!!! Like I wasn’t going to be driven to the brink of losing my shit by the election), and am keeping a running tabs of ideas to work on when things calm down in the world, both the one outside and the one within.
It’s almost like, once you start creating — once you move from the doing nothing to the doing something — you start to gain momentum.
You start to notice yourself getting better, and you start permitting yourself to dream bigger and take more risks.
And you start wanting to do more, and more, and more.
This is the first year of my life that if someone asked me, I would tell them I made “art.” I haven’t made the leap to not qualifying the word yet; I’m afraid I would still append “amateur” to “artist.”
But last year, I would not have even used the word “artist.”
I’m making strides. Earlier this year, back in March, I took a leap and submited three of my pieces to a local exhibition that was meant to elevate the work of women and non-binary artists. Sadly, this was the week before COVID really took hold and lockdowns began, and I don’t know — with my city still in the red zone, and cases rising again — when or if that will ever actually happen. But that doesn’t take away the fact that I took that shot. It doesn’t make me less proud of me for taking that leap.
I just took another huge (for me) leap. I don’t want to say what it is yet (“I’m not superstitious, but I am a little stitious”), but I will let you know when decisions have been made and plans are set in place. I am cautiously hopeful, but whatever happens, I am proud of myself for putting myself out there and taking a chance.
This year has been good for some things.
I hope you can think back on a few bright spots. I hope you can carry something out of this year that brings you hope, or comfort, or pride.
I hope to post more frequently. I know, I say that a lot. I’m trying.
As was evidenced the last time I was feeling art blocked, the worst thing I can possibly do is “nothing.”
So I’ve done some doodling (nothing I want to share at the moment). I’ve done some planning. I actually had a bit of a breakthrough last night while browsing Tumblr (after setting up my new art/ephemera/inspiration blog, @allyourcrookedheart [EDIT: Now defunct, relocated to @the-silience]) and wound up adding a few ideas to my Art Doc on Google.
And then I went and bought myself a tablet.
A Huion Inspiroy to be precise. I haven’t used a drawing tablet since my sister’s old Wacom back in 2001, but I figured since Andy bought me a Humble Bundle back in September that included the pro-version of Corel Painter, I might as well give it a shot. Even if I continue doing analogue drawing and scanning my images to color, I hate hate hate trying to do basically anything except basic web navigating with a mouse. I’m sure there will be a learning curve, but now is as good of a time as any.
So, here’s to gaining momentum; I seem to be my most creative when I’m staring down something new and shiny, so hopefully this will give me that jump start. Wish me luck.
I’m still fighting some hefty art block; I went from having a running roster of ideas at the ready to spending hours doodling and gesture drawing just to come up with something. I know that I’m going about things the “right way,” i.e., actually sitting down and going though the motions to unblock myself instead of swearing off drawing until “inspiration stikes,” but it’s still frustrating.
That being said, I finally went down to the basement and grabbed my Inktober 2018 sketchbook, and, again — wow. There actually wasn’t a ton of stuff in it analogous to anything I’ve been drawing lately, so I just took the two drawing that were full-face portraits and am comparing it to a drawing I completed last weekend, on Mother’s Day:
So… that’s encouraging. I still have a long way to go, but holy hell, did I come a long way already.
Today was a low-key day. I finished a drawing (which I’ll upload later), puttered around the house a bit, called my mother, and embarked on what is sure to be a journey full of ups and downs — started to learn how to play Dungeons & Dragons.
Bear has been asking my husband to teach him for the last few weeks. I’d like to say it was watching my husband run his own D&D and GURPS campaigns over the last three years (twice a week, from out home via Tabletop Simulator and Discord voice chat), but no. No, it’s because he’s overheard us listening to Dungeons and Daddies1 (not a BDSM podcast) for the last six months, and has decided it’s the coolest thing in the world. So my husband has essentially been shown up in the eyes of his son, by four fictional (and debatably competent) dads on a podcast very much not intended for children. I think we’re going to win an award for parenting some day guys, I really do.
The first stage of the campaign was character creation — Bear decided to be a Fighter hill dwarf (or “dwarb,” as he says) and I’m a Druid halfling named Veerle. Bear has apparently heard and retained enough of the aforementioned podcast that he began wildly casting spells that a. he cannot cast because he does not have magic, and b. did not apply in any way to the situation:
Bear: I Rage! Me: You rage? Bear: I Rage at them! Me: You don’t have Rage.
Bear: I cast Speak with Animals! Andy: You can’t. You have no magic, and there are no animals here.
Bear: I attack with a spell! Andy: You… you have no magic. And there is no one here to attack. Me: We literally just arrived in town. We haven’t even seen any people yet.
Eventually I just looked at my husband and mouthed “I cast Magic Missile!,” because I feel like playing with him is going to be stuck in a very innocent version of the Dead Alewives skit.
All in all we played for about two hours; Bear’s first time in combat, his first roll was a crit hit and he took great pleasure is describing how he cleaved a goblic clean in twain; I, uh, crit failed at least one of my rolls and by all rights should have been permadead, but we fudged the rules since I was the only other player and Bear didn’t want to play alone. He got a kick out of it and is looking forward to playing more tomorrow. It would be nice if this could become a weekly thing, but we’ll see how long this holds his interest.
Hope today was a day of some rest and relaxation. Stay safe, sane, and inside.
1 Highly, highly recommended. I often re-listen to it at night before I go to sleep, and I’ve woken my husband up laughing on even the n-th re-listen.
Since giving up on my April Challenges (good on those who followed through!), I’ve gotten back to doing regular ink work, sometimes in conjunction with watching some tutorials, sometimes just one my own and off the top of my head. These are not photographed for the gallery (I’ll take better care doing that some other time), but here are the as-of-now finished versions of my three latest sketches.
I completed the foreground the first sketch (the fairy) simply in order to test a few pointers I got from a YouTube video¹. I opted to fill out the image today while on a conference call, since I still felt in looked a little sparse. I could have been more conscientious about the shading on the flowers, but over all it was always intended as a “quick sketch,” so I’m not going to agonize over it.
Second drawing I did just as a quick study of hands, since they (and feet, and to a lesser extent, noses) are still the body parts that give me the most trouble. I added the plant yesterday, and the roots, extra leaves, and quote today. Again, for something that was sort of spur-of-the-moment, I’m satisfied (looking forward to breaking out those new microns, though; look at the weight behind some of those hatch lines).
Third one I’m just really, really happy with. Figure and birds were drawn partially from three different references, flowers were free-handed. Completed it yesterday in its entirety while listening to podcasts.
Bear has been having a difficult time, lately. He’s up every night and in our room, something that had become a rare occurrence before COVID-19 and quarantine became his day-to-day reality. He says he’s happy about being at home because he can be with me and play whenever he wants, but I can tell it’s hard for him.
We’ve been letting him out on the porch in the nicer weather; I hesitate to let him downstairs because it’s already difficult keeping him and his friend next door apart. They started out yesterday chatting from the porch and her window, and then moved to her being in her yard and them both drawing with chalk together-apart (she on her retaining wall, he on the porch), when we noticed the volume of his speech getting quieter. He and she had pulled their jackets up around their mouths like face masks and were trying to sneak into the yard together. Something similar happened today, as well, but this time he had an intense crying jag after. I don’t want to keep him inside, because I think that’s counter productive, but I don’t know what to do. I try to be as direct as possible with him about the severity of COVID and the seriousness of the quarantine without scaring the absolute shit out of him, but he’s five. Even though he’ll tell people he can’t play with them or that they can’t see each other because of quarantine (something he’s repeated to his cousin multiple times over video chat when Ben inevitably asks him when they’ll see each other), he just doesn’t fully “get” it. Which is a blessing, in some ways, but a curse in so many others.
His teacher messaged me to set up a Zoom conference tomorrow at five with a few of his classmates, which I think will do him a world of good. I asked him today what the first thing he’d want to do after quarantine ended was. He said, “Go to school.” I think he needs the face time with his teacher, if no one else. He went from seeing her every day and giving her a hug before we left to suddenly not seeing her for, we told him, two weeks… three weeks… six weeks… not again until at least September, at which point she’ll no longer be his teacher. I honestly mourn his ability to say a real goodbye to his teacher and classmates. It’s the same way I feel about my Seniors.
I myself had a Zoom conference with my department today, and scrolling through the three pages of attendees faces literally made me tear up. I’m not an especially social person, but I’ve always taken for granted how much of a social thing work is for me, and how far that went towards fulfilling my social needs. With that gone, I’m sort of lost.
I’m hoping to get more art done today, but barring that, maybe some binge watching or some work down in the basement.
Hope you are all holding up and being kind to yourselves.
¹ I’m considering putting up an old-school “links” page, for things like my favorite YouTubers (ArtTube, BookTube, general entertainment), forums I frequent, podcasts I enjoy, etc. We’ll see if I can get that done by the weekend. That’s the goal.