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				<title><![CDATA[(Not) Beyond repair]]></title>
				<description><![CDATA[Took me a year of procrastination and internal turmoil to complete this.

I thought I wouldn&#39;t stop drawing so consistently like I started in 2022 when I pushed through, then severe, depression. I wanted to internally protest the rising fascism by rejoicing in art and beating the odds of disenfranchisement with it. And, well, earn a living — as a queer disabled person. It helped. I was drawing every month when previously I was lucky to get a piece done in a year. It was fun, joyful. Hopeful. But something broke along the way.

Yes, from the get go I wanted a portfolio. I don&#39;t know what happened. I just got so focused on it, it had to be perfect, it had to be diverse, it had to be vast, had to be this, this and that. I stopped having fun. I thought about money day and night. Maybe I&#39;d better off having a &quot;normal&quot; job, I thought, and it battered me every day.

I decided to challenge myself: stop thinking about getting a job and just draw everyday for a year. If at the end of the year I fail, then I go apply for a job.

I did. It was obvious after a few months. So yeah, I got a &quot;normal&quot; job. I now find myself playing games all day that I wasn&#39;t capable of doing before. Sure, I don&#39;t get paid much, but I do earn money. I don&#39;t feel guilty enjoying life any more. Don&#39;t feel obligated. Not to even draw… Wait, what?

I thought money is what kills the joy. But I enjoy my &quot;normal&quot; job that guarantees me fresh air and exercise every day.

No, it&#39;s not the money per se. It&#39;s the pressure to compete, to outperform other artists that I can&#39;t keep up with, to chime in before the &quot;hype&quot; is gone. Looking at what I draw, I don&#39;t see how I could achieve that. All I see are the mistakes, the wrong proportions, legs too long, girl on the left too far away from the other two, dresses too dark (they&#39;re supposed to be white, but there&#39;s no way to have enough contrast because of the blank background and my &quot;signature&quot; white outline). What else? Oh, and the faces probably don&#39;t convey the right emotion. I can&#39;t fix those major mistakes, they are beyond repair.

Maybe it is beyond repair, but I&#39;m not. It needs to see the world. It needs to go out and shine and begin a new chapter for me. A chapter where I no longer compete and rejoice in the thing I love the most instead.

See work in progress on my site: https://poesu.neocities.org/#kpdh_2026-09-18]]></description>
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