We need to have a talk.

     Frankly this has been a long time coming. So much literal s@#% I've tried to have just be water under the bridge. And with how everything has come crashing down gradually, it's about time I stopped being such a coward and actually speak my mind. There's gonna be a lot of talk about "me" here so if you think it's some "pride hype" bulls@#%, feel free to screw off. But if you're wondering why I won't do something or other, I'm gonna point you to this either way. If you're a commissioner, a person looking to get art from me, or just wondering who the heck I am, then this is probably relevant to you.
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     So who am I then? Admittedly I haven't really cared about that question. Seemed far more noble to have yourself defined by the people whose lives you've touched in one way or another. And that's great and all... but that means you have other people decide FOR you who you become. I was so scared about defining that myself, so I tried appealing to anyone and everyone who would listen to me. I drew countless gifts for even just random people online. Admittedly I've met some really close friends that way. And then I found it far more interesting to be involved with who and what I found online than in real life. I hate stereotypes, I hate things that tend to be "commonplace, if there's too much hype around something I instantly discredit it. And as a Mormon living in the smack center of Utah, I guess I have a little too much stereotype I ever wanted to handle. So immersing myself in a digital world where me and my friends and associates literally could draw and make things far more interesting and compelling seemed like absolute bliss.
     And before I knew it, I was more worried about whether I was making my friends online happy, than making myself happy.
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    Then the Divorce happened. It was the first year I got back from my 2 year mission in Calgary Alberta, in Canada. I was attending BYU Idaho at the time and couldn't wait to see my family for Christmas. December 22 around 7:00 PM I remember. My Grandma just got a phone call. My mom couldn't take it anymore to the point she didn't trust riding in the same vehicle as my dad, especially for an interstate drive through snowy mountains in a van that had seen better days. To this day I had never been as shaken as I was then.
     Something you should know about us "mormons," we cherish family like none other. It's not who you're "stuck with," but it's the people you go to when even your own friends and colleagues forsake you. It's where you go when your life comes crashing down and you can't pick yourself back up. It's the people you try to make it through life with in one piece. To us, family is one of the most rewarding and sacred things we can enjoy. I had grown up for 20 years wondering why there was little to no peace with my parents and family, and honestly I thought I was the root of the problem. Surely that must be the case when their arguments usually involved me in one way or another, right? Somewhere in the back of my mind I thought that if I tried the best I could, we could be a happy family again. A divorce to me at that time, was like a game over.
     Had I known what was really going on behind the scenes of our family, I would have never wished that. Either way I was broken, devastated, you name it. 20 years of actively trying to keep it together shattered in an instant. I remember I couldn't even bring myself to finish a big art contest I had started. Several projects to this day remain unfinished because of that emotional fallout. It made me desperate for something, anything, that could at least mend the damage done. But I was alone in Idaho, away from family, from the people who were getting the blunt edge of all this. I felt hopeless, powerless, useless, a pathetic college art student groping around to find some semblance of value, to ease my own, and my family's pain.
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    So if you're paying attention up to this point, remember how I mentioned drawing to appeal to others and what not? Well now I grew even more desperate in my endeavors to appeal. I opened commissions when money became an issue. I tried keeping myself busy with gifts, contest entries, school, anything to at least get my mind off of all this. Turns out opening commission art was going to be the best and worst thing for me.
     It started slow, but as the years went on, I got more traffic. Being involved with the sonic community certaintly helped in that regard. But every professional artist at one time or another was hired for something they didn't want to draw for one reason or another. So I became more lenient with the art I would draw, under the justification that it was "preparation for the real world" and what not. Well that started attracting a lot of people. People with more "colorful" interests than I was aware of. But I was a college art student, and we were taught in church about the need to be humble, so I said yes, trying to be grateful for what I got. The plan was to have this help steady myself until I could pursue something more fitting of my carreer path.
     5 years later, I'm still at it, able to claim being "self-employed" (and begrudgingly accepting self-employment taxes.) I'll admit, I found myself enjoying a consistent amount of artistic success for so long, whereas I saw tons of other artists attempt to do commissions and then just kind of fade away. Heck, it was such a stable source of income that for the whole of 2012, I graduated early from BYU Idaho to live with my mom, and help her out financially with food, utilities, etc. I consider myself lucky to be able to have gone on for so long. Regardless, it's only recently that the opportunities for a career I wanted have finally emerged, and I find myself in a terribly awkward position; The art that I've built this "business" on is almost completely worthless for the career I sought. And the art people want to see in portfolios could almost be considered the exact opposite of what I was drawing. Even moreso, I became so caught up in the idea of making people happy to see their ideas come to life, and being grateful that I had a job doing something close to what I wanted to do instead of working at some McDonalds somewhere, that it quite literally became the thing that defined me. The ideas and desires of other people overriding my identity. To this day people look at my work I've done for commissioners and assume that my interests fall under the same as the commissioners. It's not true, but like people would listen if I told them otherwise. And now it's come to the point that I struggle  to even draw my own stuff anymore.
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I've lost my identity as an artist. Now I want it back.
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This next week I'll be attempting to complete commissions and artwork I've promised, to whatever degree I can. I'll also be revamping the commissioning setup. Livestream has become unreliable, and I want to get away from being labeled as a porn artist or "that 'Damsels in Distress' artist." I want to do more, MUCH more. There's no sufficient reason for me to stop offering commissions, but I will not be taking any more commissions that may involve content that doesn't sit right with me. I'm sorry if it comes off as rude but there's been too many times commissions have dictated me to do something I am simply not ok with. Consider yourself warned.
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     The frustrating thing about all this though is before, the only time I would turn down a commission is because there was nothing good I could find about the idea or premise. I let so many other commissions slide because to one degree or another, there was something I DID want to draw, something I did enjoy. Those who know me know I'm a sucker for things like romance and what not. And not things like "you got a big dick, let's f@#%," no, that's people making the idea and concept of sex a sport, rather than something special. Me, I loved drawing the scenes between a couple, maybe showing some affection, possibly showing some characteristics to each person's personality as well. I loved how my imagination would wander off and dream of what chemistry would become of the two, what their quirks and passions would include. And the difficult thing about all this was I never wanted to come off as being anti-sex. Heck, when I get married, I hope we do it a lot! But, both as a Mormon, and having a family that divorced because of infidelity, it's something that I try to tread with caution around. And with all the emphasis on having a family in our culture, well it certaintly hasn't helped me with how lonely I've become.
     Which makes it all the more infuriating when people ask for adverse proportions with certain body parts. Heck, it's practically a joke in my livestreams to "make the boobs bigger" whether intended as a joke or not, even trying to justify the size. I refuse to believe anymore that any private part bigger than a character's head exists for any reason that ISN'T sexually driven. As for the whole "damsel in distress" thing I had going on, while yes, it still is an "interest" in that regard, it's still a sense of objectification, and I'm currently trying to back away out of that area. It exists almost as much as a self-esteem reinforcer as a fetish. All those years feeling helpless with my family's divorce, with how often we moved, with me having to be the new kid, a fantasy where I could be depended to successfully protect and preserve the lives of others seemed like the epitome of happiness to me. But I know better. Besides, even if I did end up "saving the day" for some woman, the most I would get is a lecture about how I'm anti-feminist or some bulls@#%.
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   So this has been a lovely rant, but how does this define who I am? Well that's the thing, you wouldn't care anyway about my conclusion. You already have your own impression of who I am.
I'm just trying to not care about what you think anymore.
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You've been the heaviest crutch I've ever had to bear. The worst advice I've ever taken to heart. The sharpest words I've ever listened to, the greatest heartbreak I've endured, the darkest filth I've ever drank. By all accounts you've been everything I despise in the world and more.
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And yet...
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Each and every one of you have been exactly what I've needed. Each and every one of you have helped me learn something, as blissful, ignorant, or painful as an experience as it was. And for that I am far more grateful than I am feasibly able to put into words, nor do I think I will ever be able to as long as I live.
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Who am I? Maybe once this life is over I'll be able to tell you. All I can say is this;

     I can't be who you want me to be, but I will become who I need to be.