College End and a New Begining

It’s easy to get overwhelmed by college when coming straight from high school. I can tell you this though. I am so glad I was as dedicated as I was during my sophomore and Jr. years because at the end of my Jr. year I was diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer.

BOOM.

Sudden right, well that’s how it happened to me. It was a hella taxing experience I mean between surgery, chemo, the pain, and medications I thought I would have to drop out of college and just quit everything. It was a pretty bleak time for me. It all literally came to a head during the last few weeks of school. One of my best friends at the time had taken me to the hospital and tried her hardest to help me when she could. I didn’t have insurance and even when I told my symptoms to the doctor I went to see, he didn’t believe me. He Just swore I was probably having “crazy sex” that made me shat my insides out or was pregnant.

What a turd.

Once I wrapped up finals and made it home I fell to the couch. I couldn’t move. My mom came in from work and saw me balled up on the couch holding myself while sobbing on my second day home and knew whatever was hurting me was something bad. She rushed me to a different emergency room and they took everything I told them seriously and immediately started to run tests. The tests were awful but worth it. Because they ran everything they could think of. Thanks to that they eventually found the tumor and were able to get it out.

That’s the short and sweet. That’s how I thought it would all go down. I remember thinking that we are in the future and the surgery would be done through tiny tubes and robot hands. That’s definitely not what happened. I was split from under my chest to past my navel. When I woke up a few days after the surgery I had a franken-belly. Staples traveling down my torso, drainage tubes off the side, one in my mouth (the F*n worst) and a Colostomy bag. That last one was the kicker. I’m sure somewhere in my drugged up haze the doctors said something about cutting my colon up and pulling my intestines through my tummy and needing to go in a bag for a while, but it really doesn’t hit until you literally see it sitting there.

2009 was the hardest year I have ever lived through, but I did it. Thanks to my amazing friends who went out of there way to make me feel awesome and gave me all the support and humor a gal could ask for and a mom and sister who went above and beyond to take the best care of me and keep my spirits high. Above all else, I am grateful for the love and understanding I received from the college community, friends, and family #blessed.  Last but not least I am thankful to me because I’m a trooper!

I finished college on time in 2010 after assuring the school I would be able to complete my work. My plan had always been to get all core classes done and take as many hours as I could from the start so that senior year I could art stress-free. Again, I’m glad I took most of my intensive writing and logic classes before senior year. I didn’t put out as much art as I wanted my senior year since I wound up spending huge chunks of time in dreamland escaping the ick that chemo gives, but I did complete what I needed to get done.

My art took a pretty decent turn for the dramatic I’ll say. I had most of the pieces I wanted to show for my Senior Gallery, but I needed a few more. I won’t say everything went smoother because it’s harder to say no to a student who is doing chemo while attending classes, but I was able to push through and get my digital works in my Senior Art Exhibit. The compromise was that I had to have some traditional pieces mixed in with the digital. I could do that. I just had to do some more traditional painting.

Instead of trying to find inspiration outside of myself, I looked towards my current situation. I started to paint my current situation. It was a raw experience that was pretty therapeutic actually. Before the surgery, I wouldn’t have dared showed my belly to anyone. After, I was like:

“Well dang, why not? Every doctor and trainee in the hospital has ripped my clothes off and seen me at this point.”

After having people literally see your insides, having someone look at the outside shell just didn’t seem as much of a big deal to me anymore. Don’t get it twisted though, I’m not flashing the goodies just because, but I’m more at peace with myself now.

Opening day the response was a bit surprising, but not entirely. I had all of these large Afrocentric ladies being beautiful and in the buff alongside these emotional pieces illustrating how I felt using oil paints in various techniques. (pics later). I was having a hard time learning to love what I looked like all over, so it took a lot of me to put myself out on display like that. It felt right though, and it got a lot of folks talking, so I took that as a win. Afterward, I gave a presentation on my work to a packed room and boom. Lady T. completed her four years and got her BFA.

I know that was a long detour to hit when talking about what it has to do with anything, but due to it, I was able to get to where I am now. That year of my life provided the biggest change in attitude I have had since I started middle school and decided that I was going to be more outgoing and outwardly confident.

During everything I went through that year I had large stretches of time to just think (well when I wasn’t on antidepressants [which made me kind of just zone out] or pain meds [which just knocked me out). I thought about everything I wanted to do and would do once I felt better and could do it. I thought about my mortality more intimately. I thought about what makes me happiest in life and how I could do it more often. Turns out the most important thing right after recovery was “me time”.

The following few years I spent my time focusing on myself and getting my priorities together. I tried some online dating, I went on more road trips, hung out with friends more, did temp work to try new things, and got caught up with video games again. Before I knew it I had entered “official” adulthood and had a stable job.

Almost dying totally sucked, but it also was an eye-opener. It made me realize what I wanted to do and what is most important to me. Not what I should be doing based on outside expectations. I’m grateful for that. Once I got the wanderlust out of my body I was ready to get back to doing what my heart yearned to do. DRAW!

Sneks are cool
My DnD Gorgon I didn’t get to play for long, but designed her anyway

Take time for yourself to be yourself.

-Lady T.

 

 

Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff

Now I used to hear that quote all the time. It used to grate on me as a child. I mean as a kid everything you do seems small to an adult but as a kid. Mannnn, it was life impending.

I find myself more and more learning to appreciate that quote. Maybe almost dying of cancer, or maybe just growing up has made me warm up to it, but I sure as shimmy shitake am glad that I have.

This blog for example. It’s supposed to document my comic making process. If this was a younger Lady, I would refuse to put anything here but steps on comic making. All the post would have pictures, and they would be amazingly edited, but there would only be two posts.  Where is the point in that? Documenting a process has many parts to it. Some that seem assinine, some that are right on target, and others that pan flat. It’s all apart of MY process and I have learned to embrace that. The messy with the neat.

I want to fix this baby up to look as good as my art and design degree will allow it to be, but I know that will take hours. Hours that I would rather spend creating the actual comic at the moment.

This is a fantastic experiment and may not be how I always document my process. I mean Vlogs are a thing, but for me, that’s the easy way out. I want to exercise my ability to word vomit cohesively.

I will get this place looking better, but for now. I am happy knowing that it exists.

:3c
Some Faie Chasing Dusk

“You can’t fix something that hasn’t been made yet!”

-Lady T.

Style Maven Inspiration Sophie Campbell

I have a ton of artist and movements that isnpire me, but I want to go back to the artist who inspired the style into me.  The beautiful Sophie Campbell!

Imagine a high school geeky, black, tall, not typically considered pretty, and a fat gal who had been drawing for around 8 +/- years at that point, but had never created a character that represented who she was. Lots of heroic figures, and wishful thinking, but none that actually showed any of the realness that she was in a setting that she dreamt of. Not because she didn’t want to, but because it just didn’t occur to her to do it.

Wild right!?

I had my gal Amanda Waller in Dc comics, and the old but good anime Crying Freeman gave me black women with black features being amazing badasses (and even a super-sized lady who I grew to love even though I didn’t at first due to her childish ways). And I’m sure if I squinted really hard and went deep into the recesses of the dial-up internet I could squeeze out a few more, but for me, that was about it…

I was in high school when I read Sophie Campbell’s the Abandoned, I became woke to what was missing in my geeky life.   This woman was illustrating everything I wanted to see, and it blew my mind to finally see it. All the nitty gritty beauty of the bodies, the emotions, and just how raw her women were allowed to be. That sort of representation was so scarce for me.

It was a weird introspective moment that made me think about…well everything. I craved this representation, but because I never saw it, my subconscious had pretty much erased it from the realm of possibility. EVEN THOUGH I COULD DRAW IT!  That’s some mad crazy Twilight Zone-ish to wake up to. Goes to show how easy it is to internalize things based on what you see or don’t see in the media you consume.

After that, I made a conscious effort to draw inspiration from the amazing women present in my daily life. It took an effort to change the way my pencil translated what I thought to what was drawn, since the urge to blend out, smooth out, and “fix” was so prominent, but the effort paid off! Now it’s second nature to draw rolls, afro-textured hair, muscles on women, and imperfectly perfect bodies.

I have a ton of other major influences on style, taste,  and what inspires me… but this lady gets her own post for being the first to wake me up and represent the kind of people I wanted to see more of in the media I love.

Thanks <3

It's a meeeee
Alcohol marker testing on a chubby cheeked Avatar idea.