I have been in a quite substantial rut regarding art for a very long time now. I love art, I love different mediums and what can be done in each, I cannot bring myself to create art of worth. There is much within my own work I am dissatisfied with, but what torments me most is the fact that my art is lifeless, it all seems so dead, so reserved, paralleling my own eyes that inhabit no life at all. But when I admire others art I am met with such life, such emotion, it's almost overbearing. The quality does not matter, from a child to a professional just the sheer act of breathing life into a still image inspires such awe in me, I don't know how they do it. The only thing I feel I truly can do well -- if I were to actually study it -- are backgrounds, even if people can tell something is off I can get away with them being dead to a larger degree, but I want to create life, I want to imbue an image with emotion, but every passing day it seems I may not be capable. To a large degree this is part of the reason I used to throw myself at studies so much, even if I did not at the time realize it. An attempt to make up for everything I lacked in sheer technical skill, but at the same time what is the point of skill if I cannot create what is so central to my admiration? With a lack of an answer, I have largely ceased all studies and drawing entirely, there is no point in it.

More recently, I have slowly been attempting to return to drawing, perhaps in some futile hope that I would eventually learn how to mimic the lively qualities I have yearned for so, a long shot for sure. Still, it may be of some worth to pick the hobby back up. Some time ago I was put on an antipsychotic due to suspected schizophrenia and one of the largest side effects was that it entirely erased my ability for visualization, and as such, erased my ability to draw. (I normally cannot visualize images, but with time I've learned how to visualize the form of objects, leading to my penchant for perspective. The medication removed all ability to visualize anything at all.) Thankfully this effect was short lived as I was switched off that medication shortly afterward due to akathisia. The period of time that I was on it however was filled with much grief, I hadn't really even drawn or thought about drawing for over 6 months before that point, but as soon as I noticed I couldn't think of objects in perspective I immediately went to my sketchbooks and was met with the horror that I could no longer create anything. All of my childhood and teenage dreams of one day becoming a professional artist of sorts very concretely vanishing before my eyes, all of those years joyfully filling sketchbooks, all of those years studying, admiring, laughing, crying, thinking about art, gone.

Ever since that period I have looked at my own capabilities for art with a new appreciation, I still find myself often falling into the same spirals regarding my works lifelessness (As I am currently) but I've been trying to be a little better about it and still create despite it. My art has degraded a good amount in quality since my highschool days of relentlessly grinding day in day out, but there is nothing to be done but continue moving forward. Perhaps it's time to return to the grind, currently I'm unable to work due to paranoia and hallucinations so art could be a great time filler. I'm doubtful I will ever truly create anything deemed human-like in the future, but atleast the backgrounds might look good.