I recently lost an online friend, ‪@JustANoseBleed‬. In the wake of his death I was invited by a mutual friend to a private discord server where one of his closest buddies organized a memorial for him. Among the recounting of anecdotes and the recopilation of his work, we were invited to write letters which are to be gathered and presented to his parents, as a way of showing them the vibrant life he led online that they might not have been fully aware of.
The gathering of people, each sharing a different glimpse of his soul has been nothing short of moving for me. I've reminisced about our moments together, about the weekend mornings workshopping our scripts, and all of the effort he spent translating Brutal Complex so that we could play it live, on my stream. I'll never be able to thank him enough for that.
His art, wonderful and amusing just as he was in person and in life, has taken on a strong and bizarre power. It's as if the invisible etches his spirit made while he worked on it decided to reveal themselves to me, granting me glimpses to his still living soul.
I really want to share his handmade Saber fumo, the mascot of his channel. I think nothing else shows just how whimsical and dedicated he was.
His last work that I know of, this page for Basesk8er's e-zine haunts me, and it both fills and breaks my heart to see one of my own videos referenced in the sidebar.
Amongst the grief, I've realized how much I wanted to see him grow and lead a fulfilling life. That even if his art didn't become popular or known, though I believed it eventually would, I wanted to see him try and to share it with the world, if only because of the joy that it gave me to see what he could come up with, and to share in the fruits of his work.
In the months before this event I've been slogging through life in a terrible mood. Now that I've fully entered the workforce my only times to create are from 5am - 8:30am, if I'm able to wake up, and a bit more during the weekends. I've noticed myself slowly becoming bitter because of this fact.
His death has been a wake up call, and only now realize that creation is more than anything a celebration of life, however lived, and that it leaves an indelible mark on the world and those around you. To be able to do is a joy, to share it even more. I am grateful that I have the time to do it. It doesn't matter if it's "dumb" or "mediocre" or "unoriginal", if it is true to your nature it has value, and it will resonate with someone, somewhere.
It might be selfish of me to share this publicly considering how bashful he was, but I beg of you...
SomaSpice
Please, never believe your art is too small.
I recently lost an online friend, ‪@JustANoseBleed‬. In the wake of his death I was invited by a mutual friend to a private discord server where one of his closest buddies organized a memorial for him. Among the recounting of anecdotes and the recopilation of his work, we were invited to write letters which are to be gathered and presented to his parents, as a way of showing them the vibrant life he led online that they might not have been fully aware of.
The gathering of people, each sharing a different glimpse of his soul has been nothing short of moving for me. I've reminisced about our moments together, about the weekend mornings workshopping our scripts, and all of the effort he spent translating Brutal Complex so that we could play it live, on my stream. I'll never be able to thank him enough for that.
His art, wonderful and amusing just as he was in person and in life, has taken on a strong and bizarre power. It's as if the invisible etches his spirit made while he worked on it decided to reveal themselves to me, granting me glimpses to his still living soul.
I really want to share his handmade Saber fumo, the mascot of his channel. I think nothing else shows just how whimsical and dedicated he was.
His last work that I know of, this page for Basesk8er's e-zine haunts me, and it both fills and breaks my heart to see one of my own videos referenced in the sidebar.
Amongst the grief, I've realized how much I wanted to see him grow and lead a fulfilling life. That even if his art didn't become popular or known, though I believed it eventually would, I wanted to see him try and to share it with the world, if only because of the joy that it gave me to see what he could come up with, and to share in the fruits of his work.
In the months before this event I've been slogging through life in a terrible mood. Now that I've fully entered the workforce my only times to create are from 5am - 8:30am, if I'm able to wake up, and a bit more during the weekends. I've noticed myself slowly becoming bitter because of this fact.
His death has been a wake up call, and only now realize that creation is more than anything a celebration of life, however lived, and that it leaves an indelible mark on the world and those around you. To be able to do is a joy, to share it even more. I am grateful that I have the time to do it. It doesn't matter if it's "dumb" or "mediocre" or "unoriginal", if it is true to your nature it has value, and it will resonate with someone, somewhere.
It might be selfish of me to share this publicly considering how bashful he was, but I beg of you...
Please, never believe your art is too small.
2 months ago | [YT] | 64