Rant ? Vent ?
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I find my relationship with my medical life in relations to my art so odd.
I'm an art student, in a fine arts school, it's what I plan to make a living off once I get my BFA. Naturally people expect me to be making art about my struggles in terms of my medical and mental issues; yet I find myself so utterly and physically repulsed by the thought.
I always tell myself I never want to be the type of artist to make all my work about my disabilities, reflecting my disabilities, or depicting my disabilities (not that there's anything wrong with artists who do). I want my art to make me feel good, to be pretty, to be beautiful in a way that it makes you forget everything but it in that moment.
And making art about my disabilities is the opposite of it. So viscerally opposite that I find myself repulsed even when I think about doing it. And I know it is most likely an internalized trauma response and not wanting to let go of the escapism my art provides for me. That it's something I should work through.
Yet I have done art of my disabilities despite hating it. On chronic pain, nausea, feeling chronically sick, T1D, my body just falling apart at the seams. I try my hardest to make others feel burdened and, gross, and helpless as i feel. And yet I still find myself resenting myself for carrying out those works even if they are successful. Just for the fact that they even exist.
