I don’t tell everyone in the offline world about my drawings.
My art is my escape from entitled individuals.
You know, those who believe that words can have consequences, except theirs.
They can flap their lips without any accountability.
Others’ creative output is scrutinised and dissected, because they can.
Because they feel they have a right to comment on anything.
Yes, I believe in freedom of speech— But also in freedom of replying.
If I get criticised, freely, then I can freely respond to those who criticise me— And therein lies the conundrum: It’s fine for them if it is a one-way conversation.
I’m not scared to post whatever I create, but I also enjoy the anonymity of not having to explain the minutiae of my creations at parties, family gatherings, or in the boardroom.
“Were you sad after you drew that, you should be making more cheerful cartoons! Stay positive!”
Well, no.
I create these strange things in order to stay sane— They’re not the cause of forays into depression, they’re the antidote!

Once, in a previous lifetime, a busybody offline acquaintance got wind of my creative endeavours.
“Ooh, that girl must be cold, she’s not wearing much!”
And I would reply with, “No, it’s a pinup cartoon, she’s not cold, it’s just a drawing!”
“But what about putting stars on the exposed areas?”

I tried explaining that drawing is like one of those ECG machines to which I’m attached.
While I draw, I’m having some fun, and my heart is still beating.
That’s all there is to it!
It doesn’t necessarily relate to anything that’s profound.

In the meantime, are we going to talk about the fact that you can never have a big-enough sword for a scantily-clad fantasy girl?