Been falling a little behind on reflecting back and writing about my monthly challenges, but they’ve still been happening. In September I tried fasting everyday from 9pm to 1pm. 16 hours of fasting followed by an 8 hour eating window. A good chunk of that 16 hours was spent sound asleep in bed, so really nothing too extreme. This was by design since I’d never tried anything like it before. I also had water whenever I wanted. The main curiosity that drove me to pursue this one in the first place, was wondering how it would make me feel. Particularly if I’d find more energy throughout my day. The results were pretty mixed.
For the most part, I stuck with it. Here and there, the day got busier than expected and I’d end up not getting dinner made until after 9pm. In this case, I just pushed when I broke fast to later in the next day. 2pm or 2:30pm sometimes. Also had a long weekend getaway with friends, which kinda threw things into disarray. I try not to let these challenges stand in the way of having a good time on vacation though. Defeats the whole idea of getting away to begin with.
As far as how fasting made me feel, I can’t say I captured that new source of energy I was looking for, but I did start to feel something unexpected though. I started to feel gratitude and even a little more joy everyday. The experience shifted my mindset of food being available absolutely whenever (especially true working from home), to making the food I eat seem somewhat more special. I quickly found myself looking forward to breaking my fast each day, and for that reason what I chose to eat became more deliberate and I guess more celebrated. Not just something to tide me over on a busy day, but rather something I wanted and looked forward to more than I normally would. It was the best part of the whole experience and a good lesson in perspective.
An eating window from 1pm to 9pm basically skips right over when I would’ve normally had breakfast. The idea was never to skip any meals, just to compress when I ate them. This was the hardest part of the challenge for sure, and where I ended up falling short. I just didn’t eat the same amount I normally would, and I ended up losing a little weight. While I’m not surprised this happened, since it’s just numbers in and numbers out, it wasn’t what I wanted to happen. I understand it’s a goal for a lot of people, but it is definitely not one of mine.
It’s been a few months since this challenge, and I haven’t really kept up with it. Losing weight turned me off to continuing on as I had been. While I appreciated the positives from the experience, seemed like if I couldn’t find the appetite to maintain my weight while fasting, then it was probably best to move on. I can imagine coming back around to it with a little more effort put towards avoiding that pitfall someday, but I guess in the meantime, what am I having for breakfast?
I recycled 14 years of sketchbooks today. Was really starting to take up some space, and I’ve never really liked having too many things. I did flip through them all one last time though. An experience that was part nostalgia, part rescue mission. I tore out and kept any page that held any ideas that were never seen through, or just plain forgotten about. I’m sure some still may have slipped through the cracks though.
It was fun finding scribbled notes in the margins here and there. Everything from questions I thought were important to ask on my first career job interview, to a list of things I needed in order to get settled at my first apartment I ever lived alone in. Plenty of directions and phone numbers to places and of people that I don’t remember. And to do lists, so many to do lists.
Flipping to the occasional personally potent illustrations brought me pause. Remembering how hard a time was or what I was feeling in that moment. This is something I do from time to time looking through Six Foot Giraffe, but running my palm across the actual page I drew on so many years ago is something different. Like reaching out and touching a piece of the past, wanting to tell my younger self connected to that page that we’re gonna be alright. Seemingly dramatic, I know, but very true.
If I’m being honest, writing these words is giving me a sudden sense of panic to leap out of this chair and rescue these relics of my life from that recycling bin. Preserving tangible facts that I was ever even here. But I still think it’s okay to let them go. I already preserved the works I thought to be important, keeping them safe here on this site. I even have them stored offline at a much higher resolution to preserve fidelity. So I tell myself again, it’s okay to let them go.
If I start losing sleep over it, recycle collection is still a few days out, so I may possibly be getting fitted for a hazmat suit this week. Luckily, I’ve spent a lot of time and energy over many years making Six Foot Giraffe exactly what I need it to be. So I think I’ll be sleeping just fine tonight.
UPDATE: I panicked about 48 hours later. Got some gloves on and went on a rescue mission. I decided there’s value in having the work exist in some tangible form. Just not in the way of scattered throughout a stack of sketchbooks spanning over a decade. So I think I’ll make something of a coffee table book. Like this site, something that curates the meaningful parts in and organized and interesting way, but now in a tangible form. Until I complete that, there’s a chance I might need those sketchbooks. Maybe a file went missing, maybe I didn’t scan something at a high enough resolution. Who knows. I decided once it’s done, I’ll let them go for good.
Middle Kids at the Teragram Ballroom in Los Angeles. Ever since the first time I saw them and realized she was playing a right handed guitar, left handed, I knew I was sunk. They’ve quickly made their way into my list of favorite bands that I haven’t already been listening to for over a decade.
Edge of Town by Middle Kids
We had some fun out in Joshua Tree with friends on a long weekend in late September. It was exactly what I’ve come to expect when you get this crowd together. Good laughs, good food, good drinks, and good memories. Of course I also spent a life-threatening amount of time in the hot tub. Wouldn’t be a weekend getaway otherwise. It’s a nice thing when your agenda for the day doesn’t equate to much more than watching the setting Sun and the rising Moon.
The house we stayed at and particularly the surrounding scenery, was out of this world. With a little color correction, it could probably serve as a backdrop for an alien planet in some sci-fi film. The landscape always seems so surreal out there, no matter how many times I’ve seen it. This felt especially true because of how secluded the house was. Trying to spot any other man made structures on the horizon felt like playing “Where’s Waldo.” A welcomed change from my everyday sights.
We did venture out toward some civilization one night to see Modest Mouse play at Pappy and Harriet’s. I seemed to miss the Modest Mouse train when I was younger and don’t know much else outside their hits. Even still, it was a really fun show and didn’t hurt that it was at a pretty unique venue. The Districts were the opening band. I’d never heard them before but glad we caught them. Been listening to them on and off ever since.
Cheap Regrets by The Districts
After a few days dehydrating ourselves in the desert, we headed back to Los Angeles for one last outing before we all went our separate ways. James Blake at the Hollywood Bowl. If I’m being honest, I had absolutely no idea who this guy was. Thing is though, The Bowl is a truly magical place, and in my experience it doesn’t really matter who’s playing. So long as it’s a nice night out, you’re gonna have a great time, and we did exactly that. Also didn’t hurt that our seats were absurdly close considering the layout and capacity of the Hollywood Bowl. We’ve got a friend who’s a good guy to know, to say the least.
Our friends Jenn and Duncan even flew down from Sacramento for the night to join in. I know, sounds exhausting. Thing is, they have three kids, and I have to imagine a chance to catch up with friends and have some adult conversation for a change, is a juice well worth the squeeze. Glad they made it and even more glad I get to be in the company of friends like these.
I tried to make it a point to play guitar at least 15 minutes a day for the month of August. A lot of these challenges I come up with are things I don’t really wanna do. Maybe because they’re hard, or maybe they’re uncomfortable. I guess that’s the whole idea though, because it’s the hard uncomfortable things that are usually the most conducive to change and growth. I knew this one wasn’t gonna be hard at all though, and I meant for that. It was just for fun. Bringing a little balance to a year full of challenges that are sometimes not very fun at all.
I was 16 or 17 when I spent the vast majority of my nearly one-thousand dollar life savings on an electric guitar and amplifier. I remember my Dad thinking it wasn’t the smartest move, without actually saying it. He never told us what to do with our money so long as it was earned. I remember thinking it was a good thing that it was expensive. Thinking that after spending that much money, I wouldn’t give up on learning it. I was right. I still play the same guitar to this day. Thought about getting a new one for a long while, something more in-line with my style of playing, but I just tell myself you can only play one at a time anyways, so one is all you need.
Weird to think I’ve been playing for nearly 20 years. Sure doesn’t sound like it. Though I’ve been playing all this time, I’d say I stopped learning in any structured way after three or so years. No more regimented practice or trying to memorize songs. Once I learned how to improvise, able to just make it all up as I go, I kinda lost interest in learning to play someone else’s songs. It’s probably kept from me from growing, but all I ever wanted from guitar was to have fun with it, and I gotta say, shredding a guitar solo on the fly is pretty damn fun.
I definitely don’t play as much as I once did, and it shows in my speed and accuracy on the frets these days. Really is like riding a bike though, you’re not gonna forget how to do it, but it may be a little wobbly at first if it’s been a while. In the end I had fun making it a priority to play every day though, and I even learned a new thing or two along the way. Honestly felt a little weird about sharing audio of me playing, since I just don’t play as well as I once did. But what the hell, be grateful for what you’ve got.
Today’s our wedding anniversary. We celebrated by getting out of town and exploring Laguna Beach this past weekend. Four years married now, and Ten years since the first time we kissed. A decade gone by and I’m still crazy for her and driven crazy by her. She’s still my favorite person, and I still get caught up in her beauty just the same as the first time I ever saw her. I can also say with great pride, that I still know how to crack her up on a dance floor, largely with the same set of moves all these years later.
Might not have seemed it at the time, but getting married was the easy part. Staying married, well that’s where it gets tricky. Marriage might just be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Hard to know if that’s because I’ve had an easy life, or because marriage is just plain hard work. Maybe it’s both. But in any case, it’s been my experience that the hard things we choose to do willingly, are always the most rewarding in the end.
I tried to pick out just one photo from each year of our story together. It was a challenge to say the least. Been so many bright spots along the way. Plenty of ties for first place. A lot of these photos didn’t even exist on Six Foot Giraffe to begin with, and that just felt like a bit of a crime to me. So here they are, not just safe and sound in my heart and mind anymore, but here too, for when the years start to get too far away from us. Happy Four to us.
Local Natives with good friends at one of my favorite venues in all of Los Angeles. The Greek Theatre. Seats about as close as they get, with the girls in the first row and us guys right behind them in the second row. Close enough that you have to use you arms to part the fog rolling off stage. It was our first show since before the pandemic hit for Alexis and I. Definitely worth it and definitely a night to remember.
Past Lives by Local Natives
My curiosity over meditation has steadily built year by year. The more you learn about it, the harder it is to ignore. Even if I might’ve been in a meditative state before, by whatever means, I certainly never got there deliberately. So I finally set out to give practicing meditation an honest try everyday for a month. One thing for sure is, sitting still and quieting your mind is much easier said than done.
My first two weeks I tried a bunch of different guided videos on YouTube to get a sense of some of the different styles and practices out there. Some focused on what my body was feeling at any given moment. Others were more about shining a light on some positive affirmations that felt important to me, no matter how big or small. I liked those days. A universal common thread across anything I tried though, always was a focus on your breathing. The sound, the cadence, the physical rise and fall of your chest. It really does help to keep the mind from wandering. I did get a little carried away with it though. On two occasions, after 15 minutes straight of forceful breathing, my face went numb and my eyelids started twitching. Pretty sure I was just shy of passing out and was basically just hyperventilating. You live, you learn, and in this case you have a good laugh.
I also found myself visualizing a group of lines while I meditated. Similar to what I’ve illustrated. Maybe one representing work. Maybe another is desire. Maybe fear, maybe anxiety. Regardless of what’s what, they’re all fighting and competing for dominance at any given moment. If I could quiet my mind, the lines distilled down to a circle. But if my mind started to wander, it all broke loose and I’d just see a bunch of spaghetti. It started to become like a target I was aiming for. Probably breaks a few rules, but it was helpful for me and I suppose that’s all that matters.
By the end of the 31 days, I can say that practicing meditation makes me feel better than I did without it, but I’m not sure yet if that’s from the meditation itself, or just from knowing I’m deliberately trying to do something that’s good for me. In any case, I feel better than I did, and that shouldn’t be ignored. So while this challenge officially ended over 3 weeks ago, I’ve kept up with it nearly everyday since. After a little more time and effort I’m excited to see where this one takes me. Hopefully to higher ground.
Joey, my one and only brother turned 40. It was almost a month ago but I’d regret if I never took a moment to share that here. Seems like I was just writing about him turning 30 not too far back. Doesn’t feel like yesterday but it also doesn’t feel like 10 years gone.
He’s 5 years older than me, and that use to feel like a big difference but I know in a blink of an eye I’ll be seeing 40 myself. The cool thing about having an older sibling is that you’ve known them literally your whole life. He was there the day I was born, and for 18 years following, I saw him just about everyday. 18 years of horsing around, exploring, fighting, lying to our parents, and getting in plenty of trouble. All the things that brothers do.
Hopefully there are still plenty more years ahead of us than behind, but I’m not sure I can say the same about new memories together. We live 2,700 miles apart, and have for 14 years now. To say the least, we don’t see each other everyday anymore. A fact made painfully clear looking for photos of us together. Anything from the past 15 years is far and few between. But maybe with a little effort from both sides, that can change some. There’s still time.
Happy 40 Joey. Can’t be all that bad, after all, you did get to keep your hair. Although speaking from experience, I wouldn’t get too attached to it.
Meet Roy. I think that’s his name, still working it out. He’s an aging Repair Technician for the Greenfield Power Company. I think he has a more interesting story to tell than the boy with the umbrella, so I’m gonna give him the lead. Really feels like I’m never gonna be able to complete this project, but even still, I’m having fun imagining the world and all its inhabitants.
I set out to run 100 miles for June and I ended up running 101 for good measure. I ran 29 days out of 30, which also means I’ve probably listened to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis & The News at least 58 times. It’s the most I’ve ever run in a month, and maybe a world record for The Power of Love listens. You just can’t not be fired up to be alive when you hear that song.
In all seriousness though, felt good to be setting new records instead of just looking back on old ones. Particularly because I also turned a year older in June. Nothing better fights the feeling of time trying to bring you to your knees, than that brief moment in your stride where both feet are off the ground and you’re openly defying gravity.
I’ve also been wearing a fitness tracker, and by the end of the month I noticed my resting heart rate had become considerably lower. About 10 beats per minute less. Mid 40’s while I slept and low 60’s otherwise. It was cool to see the body doing what the body does, and to know that the hard things can equate to something good.
In the end, I’m glad I reached new heights but a part of me doesn’t feel entirely honest about the win. I know I could’ve gone further or run faster. No reason I couldn’t have, but I guess it’s just a fine line between enjoyment and punishment. Never the less, I still did what I said I would, and that’s a challenge enough on it’s own for most of us. The last and probably most important thing I learned is, no matter how tired you think you are, you’re still gonna be able to smash through a brick wall once you’ve hit the 4 minute mark of Peter Gabriel’s Sledgehammer.
We came, we saw, we fed. Got to spend a little time with our good friends Mike and Christina’s daughter, Leona. She’s hardly a few months old, so we’ve got a little ways to go until I can show her how to start fires with a magnifying glass and other fun and really safe things like that, but she’s a beautiful happy baby all the same. I’ve always been thankful we see Mike and Christina as often as we do, but even more so now since it means we’ll probably get to see Leona grow up in realtime. Something that’s not exactly true for most of our friends who’ve had kids, which makes it even that much more special. Above all else, my greatest hope is that I can be the equivalent to an Uncle Buck for her, because let’s face it, we all need an Uncle Buck. Welcome to the team Leona.
Finally got around to editing some footage from Fourth of July weekend two years ago. My turnaround time for these has really fallen off a cliff, but better late than never. We hiked, barbecued, boated, bowled and found ourselves entertaining a bar full of strangers at karaoke. With twenty of us on a boat and plenty of drinks in hand, it’s a miracle nobody fell overboard. Happy Fourth everyone.
Sixty. Second. Showers. That was my challenge for the month of May. I skipped a few days for a little staycation we had, but for the vast majority of the month, I stuck to it. Why would I even want to do this one? Well, guess I was just curious. Curious if it’d make my days more efficient. Curious if a short shower would be more invigorating than a long one. Curious if I could even do it. For as long as I’ve taken showers, I’ve taken them long. Always done a lot of thinking in there. Found a lot of ideas. Batman has his Bat Cave, Superman has his Fortress of Solitude, I have a phonebooth-sized shower stall that I can’t fully raise my arms in. Doesn’t stop me from standing in there until my back is as hot as the surface of the Sun though.
Unsurprisingly, on my first day I couldn’t believe it when my 60 seconds ran up and I had to cut the water. Also couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it all was. It’s absolute mania. I’m talking a full-body cardiovascular workout for a sustained 60 seconds. It’s the only way to get the job done in that amount of time. Definitely a little tougher and a lot more comedic than I thought it’d be. Even after a week straight of it, still had doubts I’d be able to keep it up. Like most things though, you get used to it. Even had some days where it felt like I only had a second or two left on my timer, but in reality I had over a full 30 seconds left when I glanced at my watch. Lucky me. Things always get easier the more you do them, for better or for worse.
In the end, it was a unique and kind of fun experience, but not one I’m making a habit of. I did end up with a little more time on my hands than I’d usually have, so on that front I did feel more productive. Thing is, that benefit isn’t worth close to the cost of losing that decompression and introspection which typically goes on when I’m in a hot shower. Nice to know I can pull it off when I need to, but there’s honestly few things that beat turning the shower knob to the molten-lava angle and having a good think. Above all else, the challenge has been a reminder that many of the things I think I need, are really just luxuries. I’ve known this, but often forget it. One thing for certain is, if you’re ever looking for a good laugh, try taking a 60 second shower.
A real breath of fresh air being with friends we hadn’t seen in person for over a year. The true highlight though, was holding their daughter Della for the first time. She’s a fun baby with a fashion sense already at expert mode and it didn’t take long fo us to fall under her spell. Seen together here at a photoshoot for a Levi’s denim ad campaign.
Aimed to walk at least 30 minutes everyday of April. A pretty straight forward one. I’ve been working from home for over a year now, and as a result not moving around as much as I was. Being at a studio everyday usually meant a bike commute and a mile or two walk on lunch. Getting out and getting moving felt like a good idea. I surrendered to a busy workday here and there, missing a few days, but for the most part it was a breeze.
I usually set out after work, getting back just as the sun set. Somedays walking more than 30 minutes, but never less. I’d listen to music, or catch up on podcasts. Death, Sex & Money is by leaps and bounds always a favorite. All the while getting to know my neighborhood a little better, and racking up some steps for the day.
I set this goal to benefit the body, but it did more for the mind I think. A body in motion is a mind in motion. Getting out and moving has always brought me some clarity in foggy times. It felt good to make it a priority for the month and capture those mental benefits. I’d be lying if said I didn’t need it.
My Grandfather passed away a little over two weeks ago. My Dad’s father and the only Grandfather I’d ever known. His name was James Patrick Smith. He was just shy of 89 Years old. A long life that above all else, defined him as a devoted husband, and a father loved by his five children. He was as hard working as they come. Legend has it, he hadn’t taken a day off work for 40 Years. A child of the Great Depression who cleaned his plate even if what was on it wasn’t always his favorite. Though, it’d be hard to know if he didn’t like something, since he never complained about a thing. He loved long walks, opera, football, and literally anything that concerned chocolate. He had a booming deep voice, and his laugh could fill every room of the house, and he laughed often. He always wore a wrist watch. I think he always understood the weight of time, which led him to always have a camera in hand or video recorder resting on his shoulder at any family gathering, which he and my grandmother always made a priority.
He filled many roles for many people, but to me he was someone I affectionately called Gramp. I had the good fortune of being born while my parents were still young, and my grandparents still only in the first half of their 50s. Still full of life and vigor. I’ll forever be grateful for that. An experience many of my cousins didn’t have. I wouldn’t be surprised if my brother and I even kept my grandparents a little younger, for a little longer. We’d spend entire weekends there with them. Together we’d play games, watch movies, indulge in all kinds of sweets, explore our town and soak up anything they told us like sponges. We were just about spoiled rotten. We loved it, and we loved them.
I remember a particular fascination I had with my Grandfather’s hat. So much so that when anyone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d tell them with unwavering certainty, a door-to-door hat salesman. It was a simple bucket hat he’d wear on his commute from the suburbs to downtown Chicago by train each day for work. When I was there on weekdays, I couldn’t wait for him to walk through the door to get my hands on that hat. As the story goes, I’d sometimes get a little impatient, and just use my imagination and put the dog bowl on my head instead. Regardless of how much dog food was already in it. When he’d finally come charging through the door, he’d always make this boisterously triumphant trumpet sound announcing his arrival. I’d run to meet him and in one swift motion he’d move his hat from his head to mine. Looking back on it, it’s clear I was just like any child wanting to wear the costume of a super hero they idolized. It must have made him feel fantastic.
As I got older, it was clear I didn’t fit the exact mold of some of the things he valued, whether that be having an interest in sports, being an ace student, or being involved with the church. Hell, I don’t even like chocolate that much. But none of that mattered and I know he was proud of me all the same, and know because he’s expressed that. Particularly, he was proud I chose to turn my passion into my career, and pursued my own kind of happiness.
In the end, I believe he was ready to go. His mind was still razor sharp, but his body had long been in decline. But beyond all else, I think he just wanted to be with my Grandmother again. Ever since she passed on, he’d often say with a chuckle something along the lines of, “I don’t know what I’m still doing here!” Particularly whenever I’d call him on his birthday. I can’t think of a more potent explanation of what love is than the sight of my invincible Grandfather crumbling to a thousand pieces as he stood over my Grandmother’s casket. And all this time since, he’s just been stuck at the station, waiting for his train to take him back home to her. Just as he always used to. He was a devout Catholic, and there was no doubt in his mind what he believed to be next for him, and it brings me a great sense of peace, knowing he was at peace himself.
Goodbye Gramp. I love you very much and I’ll never forget you.
Can’t really say when I got in the habit of bad posture, but probably somewhere in middle school. In any case, once it took hold, it never seemed to let go. Something that’s always bothered me. Aesthetically and physically. Without fail by the end of each day the middle of my back is sore and burning. Been this way for as long as I can remember. I used to ask my brother to walk with his full weight across my back, after being so beat up from my after school job each day. It’s a wonder we didn’t make things worse. Each morning brings a reset for me, but it’s short lived. So everyday of March I tried to make a point to focus on better posture.
I started out by diving into an internet blackhole of what healthy posture should be, and quickly learned that my own posture falls into something called kyphosis. Googling the word gave me a shot of confidence because it looks like things could be a hell of a lot worse. Then I started practicing specific exercises tailored to my posture. A lot of things you’d feel pretty weird doing in a gym surrounded by strangers to say the least. Also got this tiny device you stick to your back that vibrates if you start to slouch. Used that for several hours every day, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t as annoying as it sounds. Kinda feels like being in a group text chain of twenty people who never stop texting each other. But hey, it works.
By the end of the month I couldn’t say that I felt any different, but I knew from the start, a month wouldn’t be enough to undo this one. Mostly, I was just looking to jump start something new. Still keeping up with that annoying little device, and including posture exercises in my regular workouts, but my biggest takeaway was more a mental one than a physical. Sort of these random mental audits of how I’m standing at any given point. Where is my pelvis? How far am I leaning over this cutting board? Is my neck so far out that it looks like I’m going in for a kiss with my monitor? You get the idea. Don’t know if it’ll ever get better, but I’ll keep trying. One thing for sure is, our parents sure as hell weren’t kidding when they told us to sit up straight.
The thing about working alone on a project that would normally be done by a team of people, is you’re going to end up wearing a lot of different hats. Somedays you’re an artist, somedays a programer, and other days a graphic designer making a pause menu and control system that’s bound to confuse even the brightest among us. Keeps things interesting to say the least, and if any of those hats ever start to feel a little too tight, you just put a new one on.
I was exclusively concerned with Peewee Herman, Batman, and Edward Scissor Hands at the time the Gulf War was happening, but as I grew to learn about it as a teenager and further as an adult, the photographs of the burning oil fields always struck something in me. Towering columns of fire shooting up from the Earth, speckled across an endless horizon, burning day and night. I sometimes feel how those images look. Particularly, the unseen part. I feel like that oil deep beneath the surface. Not knowing how much is under there, but only that it’s being violently spent every minute of every hour of every day.
Della’s first Six Foot Giraffe. Love how her little hands appear to be proudly presenting her limited edition, Six Foot Giraffe Della Anthem Onesie. Can’t wait to meet her, but truly I can’t wait till she’s old enough to sneak and share candy with until we’re both sick to our stomachs. Everyone needs that aunt or uncle, and hell, I think it could be me.
Countless people take part in a drawing challenge every October called Inktober, and though I’ve participated many times before, it’d been a while since my last one. I decided to make sure it was one of my monthly challenges this year since I don’t always do it, but am always glad to have done so in the end. I traveled a bit in October and didn’t draw everyday, but I still ended up with 31 drawings for the month.
I have a true love-hate relationship with this challenge. The end result is always something I’m proud to have done, but getting there, at least for me, might be harder than the average onlooker might think. My drawing style isn’t very technical or time consuming, and the act of drawing itself brings me peace, but coming up with interesting ideas is always the hardest part. I pull a lot from the well of my everyday thoughts and feelings, but wells dry up fast when you’re drawing from them everyday. Guess if it wasn’t a challenge though, wouldn’t feel as rewarding.
I share my Inktober drawings on social media for the friends, family and even strangers who seem to genuinely enjoy watching them unfold, and in return I appreciate the appreciation. But I hadn’t been on Instagram in some time. I took a month long break from it that snowballed into almost 2 years. Logging in after that long was a weird thing. Like opening a time-capsule buried by people you almost forgot about entirely. Where I remembered newborn babies, I now saw toddlers with personalities and new siblings. New cities, new houses, new lives. Everyone sharing everything except for the not so fun parts.
I know what’s shared on social media is in most cases meticulously filtered and curated, but seeing it all, all the time, somehow still makes me feel low. The knowing doesn’t seem to be enough. Maybe it’s envy. Not in a keeping up with the Joneses kind of way, but maybe just wanting in on some of that never ending happiness everyone appears to be experiencing all the time. This is the feeling that drove me away from it in the first place. I feel better without it, and oddly enough, it was a drawing challenge that reaffirmed that belief in me. I deleted Instagram again about a week after the challenge ended, but I’ll surely be back for my next Inktober. What I can’t say is if I’ll ever do all 31 days again, because man, by the end of it that well was bone dry.