I am a deeply mentally unwell person. I'm depressed and I suffer frequent panic attacks. Outside of medication and therapy, a major way I cope is with plushies. Projecting personas onto them, having them set up in my regularly inhabited areas, holding them, hugging them, it all takes the edge off the loneliness- the loneliness that would remain even if I was in a crowd. Fortunately, plushie ownership is somewhat of a normalized trope for trans girls and the like, but- even still- being normative isn't really in the cards for me, both by my inherent nature, and as a conscious ethical decision. Fuck norms. In a sense, this painting reflects that. It's the two plushies I hold onto the most. Big Tunky was bought by some friends as a college going-away gift years ago, when I was first going to college for the dorm experience. Small Tunky was shoplifted by a friend for me shortly after, upon seeing him and them thinking, "wow, a tanuki plush in the wild- I know who would like this". He's squeaky.
