During my second year of college I had to deal with a lot of crap. My depression started affecting my daily life to the point I often left early from class. I had body image issues and the slight teasings from classmates made it worse. I lost a few friends and it hit me hard. The final nail in the coffin was my boyfriend at that time telling me I had become unlovable.
But every cloud has a silver lining- this was the time I realised that drawing was catharsis for my soul. So I drew. I experimented with many styles till I found one that suited me. And then, I drew every time something brought me down.
This might not shock you, but it did me. I’d never drawn something this grotesque before.
They’re not all great works of art. Most were done in between crying sessions, so they were quick, messy and frankly not very aesthetically pleasing. It it was very different from the perfection I usually practiced.
I was suicidal, but I let out my steam by using paint to voice those thoughts rather than blades 😆
Every time I had such dark thoughts, I used to depend on my now-ex. He usually promised me he’d be there to help, but then disappeared when I needed him the most. Thankfully, it taught me some valuable self-love later.
This is quite possibly my most favourite drawing from that time. I had always been fascinated by the Japanese belief in the red string of fate, and this was how I saw it for me and the person I was with at that time. Also we’re touching our pinkies to show ‘promise’ that according to the strings, will not be kept.
I never felt like I belonged where ever I was. It hurt so much to think that other people did not see me as indispensable as I saw them. (Now I know it isnt true)
I began to get more into Apocalyptic poetry and often drew scenes from it. This particular piece, I think, was inspired from “Darkness” by Lord Byron
I had a ‘good’ birthday at that time. A few people (used to be close to, but not as much post-breakup) and my ex gave me generous gifts, but I still felt so hollow inside. We’d been having arguments, and it felt like he was buying my forgiveness. I’d been looking forward to him wishing me, but even with all the gift-ing, I never got to hear him say “Happy Birthday”. It hurt me more than I give credit for 😅
This is basically what happened with my ex 😅 and this is also the last depressing picture I had drawn in my sketch book. The style started becoming more colourful, which I think was a reflection of my mind at that time.
The next picture I drew is very dear to me, precisely because it was the first time I’d had such a thought.
So my pictures aren’t as “pretty” as they used to be. But they mean a lot more to me now than when I used to ink flowers or cats or whatever.
So even if my talent hasn’t reached Picasso levels, I like to believe that I’ve grown as an artist.
And here’s a Dragon, just for the heck of it .