Nikki LeDree

I will now make my triumphant return to blogging! I can say with some happiness, if not happiness then a slight contentment that my neglect this time was not down to laziness. I simply didn’t really have anything to say or felt that there was nothing to be said. Inevitably this post will be a general update as it has been so long and I don’t really have anything of importance to say…

I am still reading Hitch 22 after pining for it for so long I think I just don’t want to finish it too quickly. It’s a pleasant thing to have a bit of Hitchens waiting for me. I have constrained myself to reading it only in my lunch breaks at work. Probably not the best thing as it always makes me spacey and contemplative afterwards. Work is just as bland and uninteresting as ever. There was a bit of trouble a little while ago with my hours and by that I mean I wasn’t getting any but it seems that has been resolved. So now I can spend more time thinking about jamming my pen in my eye because it would be more exciting and less painful than my job. I exaggerate. It’s not that bad and it pays my bills. That is all I care about when it comes to a job. I’m not one of these people that has to have a career. My job isn’t my life or my passion and I kind of like that in an odd way. I like having job time and free time and the two being completely different.

I have been drawing a ton. Well lots for me anyway. My graphic novel is starting to resemble… well a graphic novel. A whole chapter nearly done. It’s taking forever and I’m so pitifully slow but fuck I’ve never felt happier. In general and as an artist. Being satisfied with what you’re producing as an artist is amazing. Add to that not feeling like what you’re doing is pointless or complete bullshit. I’ve recently had a surge of times where I’ve had to explain it to people. People asking if I’ve finished my uni course yet and reminding them that no I have in fact quit. They then tell me what a shame it is that I’ve given up on the whole art thing. Trying to explain my growing contempt for the fine art industry and that I still draw every single day (more than I ever did when I was at uni) is a difficult task. I sound so eloquent in my head and then when I open my mouth the wrong words come out and I just feel frustrated that I can’t express myself better. If I say I want to be a graphic novelist they think that I want to be published and become rich and famous from it. I don’t give a flying fuck about making money from my drawings. I want people to read and enjoy my stories. I’ve always said that if I ever become successful at it (my definition of successful), it will be measured in fanart. Someone else drawing my characters cause they like my stories would just be un-fucking-believable.

My life time goal with my art is to always be improving. Speaking of improving my Japanese is coming along. I now know about 100ish words. That’s know the kanji, how to say them, how to spell them. I am rather pleased with myself. I can put together very simple sentences as well. I’ve just got to stick with it. I still get really excited when I know what words are in anime and songs. For father’s day I wrote 父の日おめでとう (chichi no hi omedetou) on the back of my dad’s present which mean’s happy father’s day. I loved that I knew what each bit meant on their own. Simple things like that please me. I get asked about my Japanese sometimes in my lunch break because I have these flashcards that I made and often study them then. The first question is always oh are you studying it at university? To which I reply no and then the following question is always why are you doing it then? It makes me wonder if they would ask that question if I were doing it at university. As if doing something for a piece of paper has more credence than doing it for the enjoyment and pleasure of it.Bollocks.

I believe (some, hell most) degrees are becoming worthless. So many people have them now and not because of their skills or merits. All you have to do really is turn up and hand something in when you have to. I got good grades while I was at uni, mostly first’s. I worked hard for it. I’m not the greatest public speaker and have panic attacks sometimes (once I had once in the middle of an assessment which wasn’t the most enjoyable experience of my life) so my work had to be pretty good. Other people could talk their way into a grade. I also did an essay made up of words and sentences cut and paste from other essays and sources. It wasn’t a copy though. I made it make sense; well I made it read like English. But the contents were complete bollocks. The sort of vacuous shit you see said about art in magazines. I got a first. This was the moment that I decided the course had no integrity. It really hit me that this thing I was trying to get this bit of paper was totally worthless to me.

I will end that rant here before it becomes a bit of an essay. /rant as I like to say. Alas it’s so late. I will cut this post short.

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