#creating art

Creation (digitized)

Avatar: Eywa’s Eye is a fan made project revolving the James Cameron Avatar cinematic franchise.

Nothing is decided or created yet: and that’s the special part! Characters, clans, factions, families, it’s going to be almost completely separate from the original Avatar trilogy (as of speaking, but I’ll probably have to change this when A4 comes out.)

No sexual assault, assault, r@pe, femicide, homophobic, racist, sexist or transphobic comments and or actions (the femicide thing doesn’t count for killing off female characters that’s in the story). And if found of doing so, you will be immediately kicked.

This is going to be a webcomic series! :)

ROLES INCLUDE: Concept Artist, Animal Creator & Designer, Character Creator & Designer, Background Creator & Designer, Lore Creator & Designer, Clan Creator & Designer, Weapon Creator & Designer and Na’vi Language Translator.

The artist’s path is, above all else, a solitary one.

It’s a one-way journey of shame, humiliation, exposure, and vulnerability.

It’s constantly showing yourself in your raw form (whether you believe it’s good or bad) and saying with pride:

“This is who I am. Here is this extension of me, made with everything I know.”

Hoping it will be valued. Appreciated. Understood. Accepted.

And I know that along the way, you learn not to pay so much attention to the outside. Because it’s true:

the art of creating lies in the creation itself.

More than in the title.

More than in external validation.

And that’s exactly what I want to talk about.

When you’re an artist, or you want to “be one” (in the eyes of others), you’re in the center of the ring.

No gloves, no strength, no protection.

When you start, all you can do is take the hits. Again, and again, and again.

They will humiliate you.

They will make you feel small.

They will leave you out.

They will look at you with disdain, with contempt, even with pity.

Because to others, that’s what the artist’s path looks like.

And you’ll want to find comfort, appreciation, understanding, or support from the people you love.

And that’s when you’ll stumble into another big truth about artists:

the ones who love you won’t necessarily support you or make you feel seen the way you wish they would.

Not because they don’t want to.

Not because they don’t love you.

But because they don’t understand.

When you’re an artist, you’re not made to be understood.

An artist is sensitive by nature, but when constantly exposed and creating something new, they become even more so.

Because behind every creation, there’s a child just hoping to be seen.

And in front of them, the adult demanding it.

That adult shows up. Presents the work. Exhibits it.

But at the center of the creation is that innocent child.

With only their hands as tools (metaphorical ones).

That’s why I want to share something:

if you have artist friends, creators, please try to understand their days the way they try to understand life.

Understand that they are under constant attack.

Not just from the world, but from their own mind.

They live in a constant battle between “I am” and “I’m not enough.”

It’s uncomfortable.

Being a creator means living a life of discomfort for something greater than yourself.

The gift of creation is heavy.

It weighs on your mind and on your soul.

That’s why we constantly need to express ourselves.

In whatever way we can.

An artist lives in a constant state of suffocation.

Always feeling like they’re drowning, like the pressure is almost enough to kill them.

And that creation is the breath in the middle of the ocean.

The window in the middle of the confinement.

Creation is all we have.

And the fear of showing it, hoping it will be loved as much as we love it, is always there.

Because it’s human.

Because it’s who we are.

Do you know the worst thing you can do to someone? Ignore them.

Make them feel unseen.

As if their presence had no place.

And in art, we live that.

We don’t exist until someone sees us.

You’re nobody if nobody sees you.

Like the saying goes:

“If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to see or hear it, did it really fall?”

In this context, the tree is the artist.

And no matter how loud the crash, if no one is there to witness it… it doesn’t exist.

In the eyes of others, that’s the truth.

And it hurts.

Because even though we do it out of nature (creating) that truth, whether it’s real or not, haunts us.

All the time.

“See me and believe in me. Your faith is my God.”

That’s what I wrote in one of my journals.

And that’s what goes through my head every time I show a part of myself.

Creation is within us.

But sometimes, it feels like the power lies in others.

It’s wanting to escape everything you've known…

and still, hoping to belong somewhere.

It’s believing in yourself even when it feels like no one else does.

Believing in yourself in a strange, unfamiliar way, in a way that makes you doubt whether you’re even doing it right, because no one has ever done it for you. Not like that.

And when everything seems to be on pause, return to that.

Return to yourself.

I think what I really want to say with all of this is that

art is deeply important to me.

It’s all I have, it’s all I am, it’s all I think about.

And it hurts, to love it this much and to want to live from it with such desperation.

It’s a beautiful path, one that reminds you you’re alive,

that you have a reason to exist, no matter how much others accept or understand you.

I believe we create to survive in a world that feels like it’s falling apart.

We want to leave a mark, to feel eternal in a place where we’re limited by a time we can’t control.

We create and share to feel real.

And I hope that if you’re reading this and you find yourself on the all-consuming path of the artist, you never give up.

Follow your vision. Do it for you.

Trust that the itch in your hands, that burn, that fire to create, it’s there for a reason.

For something divine, beyond our understanding.

Keep existing. Keep taking up space. Keep making noise.

Because the world will eventually turn to look at you.

And when it does, it won’t be able to look away.

you definitely don't need voice acting experience and i wont be able to afford to pay anyone unfortunately