You Are So Brave And Quiet I Forget You Are Suffering.

“You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering.”

— Ernest Hemingway

the artist's job is to communicate the noncommunicable

one of my teachers told me that but i had forgotten. like anything i've forgotten only to find again somewhere unexpected, it made me think. mostly about how perfectionism affects how i make art and. something clicked for the first time.?

there's no perfection. i cannot and will not reach perfection, my work will never be perfect and so i'm asking myself like. what's the point right? what's the point

but- hear me out for a minute okay- what if the point is to make it anyway? to look at perfection, to know it is impossible to achieve and to make it anyway? to attempt to communicate something that happened only once and will never happen again?

that's the point, i think. to try. that's the point.

“Monster’s Web” - original art by Kat E 🫥

God doesn’t exist. Because, if he did, he wouldn’t let us live in this unfortunate existence that we live in.

-Excerpts from my stupid brain, what God(s)?, 2024

“You have to look inwards.” she said.

It clicked for him then. All the hate you feel inside your heart, within yourself. It’s the same as spreading hate, being unkind, rude. You can’t treat people like that. He gradually understood. You can’t treat yourself like that.

“Thank you,” he finally spoke. As the knowing swept through his body, penetrating his mind.

“Jamie?” Catja whispered carefully, “You must remember immer, I love you and you have a beautiful heart. But your heart wanders sometimes.”

And Jamie knew, his heart was easily influenced. And when he saw his friend sneer at that woman. He thought it funny in that moment. But Catja his older sister, she loved him in spite of what he considered his shortcomings.

“And Jamie, you think they are imperfections, they are not. You just need to use those feelings in a different direction.”

-Excerpts from my stupid brain #14, Reflect urged Catja, 2024

Feeling existential dread lately but trying to remember my soul lives forever in my love for others. I am a water source in a wasteland, life in death.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

-Excerpts from my stupid brain, Decomposed, 2024