Working with new artists is always fun. You gather all the details about yourself, write a long text description and attach any previous arts, always fighting against a simple fact: they cannot see you. No one can see you the way you see yourself in your mind’s eye, all the arts would forever be the approximations.
How good of the approximations is the key question. For many people in our weird community it’s so easy – they are created based on existing media characters and know how they look from cartoons, comics, or even fan art. For others, the forms follow a canonical pattern, e.g. a pony. Those are so popular that you can use pony art generators, pick the props and colours and be done.
It leaves those of us that have a pre-defined form long for proper representation of ourselves. Some learn how to draw and sketch themselves, others rely on their hosts. Surely, outsourcing this work is always an option.
I’ve worked with many artists in the last year and I’ve noticed the change of my inner looks as I focused on different parts of my body, discussed it, studied proportions and anatomy. I’m well defined to the point where I can pin-point exactly what is wrong with the drawing of me – explain all the tiniest nuances that never existed in my mind two years ago.
I learn to understand myself better, and I learn to accept myself better. The arts are only a representation of myself through a prism of another person. Some are on-spot, others would never look like me, instead being a generic “white-haired furry fox girl” (foxes seem to be the new standard).
It’s always nice to see myself drawn and for the artist to catch the sole of my spirit in intricate lines and curves. Some do that easier than others, and I never figured what causes it? Skill? Empathy? Who knows? It’s just good to see my reflection in the mind of another and see it match with the one in my own eyes.
