Los Angeles sunshine ennui

The irony is that shortly after sketching this comic it rained for days and days 🥲

I’m currently halfway through my stay in Los Angeles, the longest I’ve been here since I left for college. Perhaps I associate this city with teenage listlessness or it really is something about the (nearly) eternal sunshine here that has me feeling unsettled.

Usually this time of winter I cope with seasonal depression by pouring my energy into art. I’ve always believed it to be a worthy escape, one that builds up my sense of self-worth. But as with all expectations, when I struggle to meet them I feel that much more disappointed. Since arriving in LA, I finally had time and space to grapple with the fact that this year, there have been a lot of life changes and upheavals of routine that I cannot simply roll with the punches and do everything according to plan.

I am often terrified that I will inevitably give up on art. I chase making new things and forging connections to combat this fear. If I make these works, know these people, have these clients, then surely I will not quit. Every life change—marriage, babies, a move, getting promoted—is a threat to my existence as an artist. I know how much harder it is for women and mothers to keep their art practice alive; Julie Phillips’ The Baby on the Fire Escape is a fantastic book that sheds light on this.

All I can do when I stray—when I have so many doubts, when I want to quit—is let time unfold and trust myself that I will keep returning. That each time I come back ready to give more of myself, the fear holds less power. That even when I do get lost, I am no less of a person. Having someone in my life to remind me of that keeps me going, which is what this comic’s about.