Wet Wings

When I’m drawing, I’m thinking about the skeletons within the bodies i draw, the separation of them all and making sure everything is clear. This didn’t feel like the right way to go in a piece about blurriness AS physical mass, so instead of taking out my sketchbook i went to the kitchen and made play dough. I wanted to have to focus on the exterior, on the blurry lumpiness that could only come from drawing something from its exterior. This also freed me up to do some cool angle stuff and play with lighting. I made some models, mashed them together, and ran with it until the piece felt complete.

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I just want to get something off my chest.

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“Thou call’dst me dog before thou hadst a cause;
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs.”
— Shylock, The Merchant of Venice

Something that always appealed to me about horror was the fact that it felt like home. It was a place where I could belong, something as a trans man, I’d never had before. I never belonged with girls, but never belonged with boys either, I never belonged in my family, and friend groups were as flimsy as wet cardboard, and when the world turns it’s back on you and brands you an abomination, eventually it feels good to own that, to spit it back in their face and say “I may be an abomination, but at least I’m not you”.

I’d like to be free from binders one day, but I don’t think I’ll ever be free from being labelled as trans, and maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all.

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Our posts are 100% Patreon funded! If you want to see early posts, full resolution art, and WIPs, please consider supporting us on Patreon!