Nyaore wrote...
You're actually a really good artist.
One thing about art theft on dA is that it predominately happens to a few core types of submissions, while the rest are generally ignored. For example anime style art is usually what most of the 'attention-seeking' thieves go after, at least in my experience in dealing with them, particularily if it's art of a popular series. I can't tell you many art thieves I came across stealing popular Naruto fanart or 'cat-girl' pictures for that matter. However, if you don't submit anything that falls into the niches that artthieves usually go after you generally have nothing to worry about.
Don't get me wrong, I love dA to death but the amount of art theft that goes on there leaves me sick to my stomach at times.
Throughout middle and high school, my one escape during the god awful school days was drawing. I had a super huge crush on Link and Vegeta, and I loved to draw angels as well. By the time I hit grade 11, I had an entire binder just full of things that I had drawn over the years. It was my own brand of therapy, I loved it. I took photoshop courses in grade 10 to learn how to colour them on the computer, and I did pretty well.
Then one day, I went to the bathroom during Japanese class. I didn't take my things with me because class was still in session and I only had to pee. When I got back, my bag had been moved, but I figured someone just kicked it. It wasn't until the bell rang when I picked up my bag that I realized it was light. Too light. I unzipped it, and to my horror, my binder was gone. Just gone.
I can't really describe the way my heart shattered into a million pieces adequately. I had a really tough adolescence and my art was all that kept me going in school. I wasn't a total social outcast because people liked my work, and they often asked me to draw things for them, or they'd ask if I'd give them one of my pictures. I was happy to oblige, because I just enjoyed the whole creative process so much.
In tears, I went to my teacher and asked her if she'd seen anyone touch my things while I was absent. She said she hadn't, and asked if I was missing something.
"My pictures," I sobbed.
"I'm so sorry, I'll keep an eye out for you," she replied, patting my shoulder and trying to convey her sympathy. She couldn't understand, they weren't just pictures, they were the culmination of four years of self-therapy, escapism, and my feelings. I also had a few drawings one of my nurses made for me when I was unable to move from my hospital bed. It hurt. It hurt so much. It still brings tears to my eyes when I think about it.
I sank into a very deep depression after that, and I didn't start drawing again until I was 20. Even then, I don't do it as often as I used to, and I forgot most of what I'd learned about painting in photoshop from lack of use over the years. Like they say, if you don't use it, you lose it. The fact that I can't remember a lick of french when I was taught it from kindergarten to grade 4 is proof enough of that.
I always worried that I'd get on DA or something, and I'd find my art with someone else's signature attached to it. I don't search for things that I used to draw because of it, I couldn't handle it.




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