Be gay do crime

I am Emory, an artist, writer and poet. This blog is mostly dedicated to all that (though I don't post much art on here anymore). I am also chronically ill and queer if that is what you like and I write stories with those kinds of characters in them.

A bit about me:

I am british (born and bred), 19 and enjoy making and sharing stories. I am also currently writing a book called The Princess and The Kelpies (no not the mythical creatures, more pirates).

Thanks for all the support lovely humans, and I hope you are doing well. If you want to support me in other ways here is my LinkTree https://linktr.ee/eminthegrave

I’m going to uni this year so I won’t update as much as I ought to. I may reopen commissions but we’ll see. I’m also in the process of creating a Card with The Believers Tales lore so you can keep up with it. I’ll let you know when that’s up.

My body is allergic to standing up

I can’t work, I can’t do it physically due to my disabilities and the mental strain would send me into burnout if I could. So creating art is how I pass the time, and I want to do it for a living. Except I won’t be able to make a living from it because I can’t work on my art as much as I want. I love making art, I love writing, I love drawing, I love making but sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing I’m worth for. That if I stop creating or I slow down that I’m a burden.

Because that’s what we’re taught, if we’re not productive then we’re worthless.

I have tried to break from this way of thinking, and I have mostly, but it’s how we’re wired so I can’t help but fall back into it.

Right now I am unable to create art at the rate I want to due to chronic illness. It’s taken me years to write a book (albeit it’s my first and I’m 19) that I wanted to have finished by now yet I have so far to go. I keep feeling like my art isn’t good enough, that I won’t be able to do the things I want to, that time is running out. Life isn’t exactly proving my thoughts otherwise either.

I admit, in the past year I have rapidly improved my art due to unwavering determination. Yet it’s hard to feel like it’s enough. I know I’m young, and I will get this experience to create something so amazing that my current self couldn’t imagine doing. For now though, I feel like I’m just lazy, that I could be doing something amazing but I just don’t have the energy or the experience.

I love to imagine a future where I have both, where I get to do everything I want to with my career but my mind moves faster than my ever slowing body. I may never get to do everything I want purely because I don’t have the energy. It’s terrifying.

I’m afraid that I won’t be able to hold a pen by the time I’m 30. I know realistically I will but disabilities keep piling on. Right now my baseline has lowered again and I can’t do the things I want as much. It’s not just art, it’s going to the cinema, starting uni, walking my dog.

Why is it every time I’m doing better, something has to come along and ruin it? Why is it that I can’t create the art I want to because my hands won’t stop shaking? Because I can’t sit up for too long, because my mind is failing just as much as my body.

Then there’s those that claim they have no talent, that steal and under pay artists and use AI.

The day I can no longer hold a pen will be the day my life will end,

yet the pen already slips from my grip reminding me as my health starts to slip

Sick in bed from something I used to love, is it fair to say it's something I'm sick of

I want to laugh, I want to write, I want to run and fly a kite

yet I'm bound to a body cursed with pain, shackled by circumstance under its reign

my legs will never run like they used to before and my mind will slip between the pages I ignore

The day I can no longer hold a pen has already come and gone, yet I can still feel it in my fingers that tomorrow I may be wrong

It still slips from my grasp, but that doesn't last

'He had light brown skin that seemed to glow in the golden light of the lanterns.' (This is Jasper)

'The woman was darker skinned than Jasper, A rich mahogany that fit the woman quite well.'

Can I outright say his skin was brown? is that offensive?

Honestly Idk what this post it really.

'He said cautiously, as if talking to an animal.'