I’m not proud or happy to say that I hit something of an emotional stumbling block today. It’s no surprise or revelation that I tend to struggle with most social settings. While I’ve come to accept that quirk about myself, it’s something that I’ve spent quite a bit of time trying to work on.

I have a lot more work to do on this front yet.

One of the producers for Heroes of the Dorm was kind and gracious enough to invite the casters out to their birthday party today. The thought of implied social interaction with a group of strangers was pretty daunting, but I’ve come to really appreciate the producer’s friendship and wanted to show my thanks and support.

All in all, the party was really cool. The people I met were nice. I just have this irrational hiccup about feeling accepted in uncertain environments. And those anxieties came to the surface in full force today. I thought I had gotten past this to some extent. I thought I had come to grips with and had reasoned with this feeling, and when push came to shove… I just haven’t. I wanted to get away. I wanted to withdraw. And I really did not like feeling that way.

It’s like building a dam, and it breaks. So you spend a lot of time reinforcing the dam, and you feel confident that it will hold the next time the water rises. The time comes and, sure enough, the dam breaks again. In spite of the failure, I have to start to rebuild and perhaps rethink the way I go about making the dam. Or maybe find a better way to divert the stream and be better about ‘going with the flow’ of it all. I don’t know.

Something that was particularly interesting about the party was that there was a group painting session. An instructor set up a bunch of canvases and we had paint brushes and paint to make a landscape painting of sorts. I thought that was a really cool idea. I never heard of a business where they made something like that part of a social experience.

At first I was too locked in with my want to withdraw to participate, but I decided to give painting a try. I’m not an artist by any stretch, and I took a seat having already accepted the fact that my painting would be sub par compared to anyone else’s. But it wasn’t a competition or anything.

I followed along at first, creating an orange sunset at the top that was serviceable, if a bit heavy handed and plodding with my strokes. I never appreciated the nuance that goes into paint blending for colors, how to manipulate a brush, or how to manage the brush’s wetness or amount of paint. I got a better sense of how a painter can put their souls into a painting, so if anything I felt that was a victory of sorts.

When we got to the beginnings of the actual sun itself, I left too much water on the brush, so my first stroke sent a bead of yellowish white streaking down the canvas. I initially panicked. I ruined the painting ten minutes top into making it. I can just paint over it, I figured. The paint was heavy enough that with a few strokes it’d vanish and no one would be any the wiser, right?

I’m not someone that likes showing imperfections, and here I am sitting here plotting the concealment of another mistake of mine. I don’t know. Something about it didn’t sit well with me. I decided to stop trying to make what the class was supposed to be making and to do my own thing.

I tuned out the world, picked up my paper plate easel, set my jaw firmly, and became an artist for a short while.

The end result is nothing to write home about or praise. My technique is likely elementary at best, but at the end of it all I created a painting of a setting sun above the ocean. In the foreground, a figure stood alone on a beach, looking out toward the ocean. The bottom right portion of the canvas is untouched.

The painting represented something vulnerable for me. Showing something that falls short of my general expectations is difficult enough, but there was something ‘meta’ about the painting and its intended meaning for me.

The figure in the painting is me, standing on a beach of my own imagination. I’ve separated myself from the world around me, in part out of anxiety, and in part out of self doubt. I didn’t want to be there, and the feeling of defeat in not wanting to be there made me not want to be anywhere. But even that respite of withdrawing to the depths of my own mind felt hollow, as I was fully aware of what I was trying to do. In that awareness, I had failed at even achieving the comfort I sought, so I wasn’t really separated at all.

The incomplete portion of the painting represents that; the realization that my escape to my mind had failed and that I was very much in tune with the very reality I was trying to get away from. And the streak of yellow I aimed to cover up was on full display in that break back to reality.

My imperfection. Laid bare.

It made me feel tortured in a way. Defenseless against the anxiety of imposed extroverted social interaction. Being out of my element. Not being in control of my surroundings or my situation.

The instructor had walked by at some point, taking a cursory glance at the painting. I wondered what he thought of it. I assume he thinks I didn’t care too much about the class; so little that I didn’t even finish my painting. And what was actually there had to look like the work of a six year old to him. I wonder if he felt disrespected by that. Part of me wanted to go over and explain to him the meaning behind the painting.

But I didn’t.

I don’t know what I’ll do with the painting. I aim to keep it. It’s hard to feel good about it, even if part of me is proud that it at least represents something I’m feeling, or at least felt at that moment. Expressing my feelings is why I started this blog, and why I started casting. So that has to count for something, I feel.

I sat and stared at the painting before I started writing this. Part of me wants to try to paint a series of things and call them all Solitude. Maybe even stream it, where I don’t say anything and just have the camera pointed at the canvas and then when I finish I just end the stream. I don’t know. I don’t know if anyone would even want to see someone who has no artistic talent or experience put their woes and insecurities on a canvas while they felt too humbled or embarrassed to even really talk about it.

I don’t know.

 

The walk back from the production office reminded me that winter was still very much upon us. The breeze carried an oceanic quality, as though the Pacific itself called to me, asking that I remember the time I traversed its edge, heard its song, and was soothed by its message. I imagined if fallen leaves were a thing that their dried brown would rush and swirl around my feet, dancing in the chilled air. Their absence reaffirmed the notion that I am far from home, far from everything I know.

I wind down for the evening, easing back into a chair while listening to Thelonious Monk, Round Lights. I sip from a glass of water, and think.

I’ve said this a number of times by now, likely in this very blog, but I feel it bears repeating to truly make this message clear. I started casting largely for personal reasons. As something of a shut-in and introvert, honest expression is a difficult challenge for me. I promised myself that when I cast I would just be myself, without reservation and without fear. I would make jokes that I thought were funny, even if no one else did, and I would forgive myself for mistakes. I would share my enjoyment and enthusiasm of a game I enjoy in as honest a way I could. From there, the chips would fall where they did.

It began, in that way, as a somewhat selfish endeavor. I wanted to explore my own manner of expression and develop social skills to better connect with people; with humanity. For so long I’ve felt that part of my life was missing, incomplete, or not all of what it could be. I was proud of myself for wanting to work on that. Casting and starting this blog have really helped me grow as a person.

Casting Heroes of the Dorm so far has given me some insight to my place in the community and what I’ve seen and felt so far has been truly profound. I generally try to avoid naming specific people when I write in my blog, but I feel it necessary to do so. In case they ever read this, I’d like for them to understand the depth of my appreciation.

Today I casted the Tennessee vs. LSU match, and had a chance to interview HecarimJ. We get on the call, and I’m excited for him because he played super well and his team definitely made a strong showing. One of the first thing he says is that it’s good to see me, because I’ve casted him for so long and that he was glad to see me on the big stage.

This moment was his. He earned it by playing so well. I had questions planned to ask him about his and his team’s play, but he took the time to say something like that to me when he didn’t have to. I told him I appreciated it and got back to asking my questions because I felt I’d be way too dorky to elaborate any further, but it was a moment that stands out for me this year.

I got the opportunity to cast my friends Kylaris and Solian earlier this week. Kylaris and I had talked about how cool it’d be if I got to cast her for months now, so for the stars to align there felt amazing. I wanted to do a good job for her, and I was really glad to see her hard work shine through. Johns Hopkins played great, and getting to interview her and Solian after their victory was really special to me. She was one of the first friends I’ve made in the Heroes community, and I think she’s neat. Meeting her and Solian at BlizzCon was a favorite moment. I dunno. I can’t really word it, but it was just really cool to cast them.

I love Momma Shot. She is such a positive person in the Heroes community. I had the chance to meet her today and I was legitimately excited and starstruck to meet her. Getting a picture with and a hug from her has been a highlight of my time in the Heroes community. I was so surprised that she recognized me and knew who I was. She messages me on Twitter and stuff sometimes, but it was just really cool to meet her. And she even said I was adorable afterwards!

Someone in the community FleurDeLisle responded to my tweet about getting to meet Momma Shot and said something that shook me to the core. They said, “You really are great, my friend. I don’t just mean your casting. You, Albert, are a truly great person.” I honestly was not ready for a message like that. I know they’ve read my blog in the past, so they have a bit more insight as to what makes me ‘me’ than someone who hadn’t, so it was really special to get a message like that. 140 characters simply are not enough to express my thanks for that message. It genuinely brought a tear to my eye. Even thinking about it now kinda does.

There’s a streamer named AlexDidz, and it’s always a surprise to me that when I stop by his stream that he’s genuinely glad and excited I’m there. I just feel like I’m some dude, so for someone to be happy I’m around is neat to me. He’s a genuinely good person, and I like seeing him play and listening to the game soundtracks he has going when he streams. I noticed after one of his HL games that he is in 3 channels, Rentaro’s, his own, and mine. I honestly cannot remember the last time I did anything with my in-game channel, so it meant a lot to me that he was in it after so long.

Maybe he had just forgotten about it, but something about seeing that was really special to me. I will always appreciate the kindness and friendship he’s given me.

The more I’ve casted Dorms the more I’ve realized that I’ve gotten a chance to cast a lot of people in the community, and that I know a lot more people than I guess I thought I did.

My own humble nature and proactive effort to not have any sort of ego generally bars me from thinking too highly of myself past a certain point, but today I really started to feel like I was a part of the community. As someone who’s seldom felt like a part of anything in his life, it’s something of a groundbreaking feeling.

I blink back tears typing this now because I think about all of the kind things people have had to say about me and my casting over the time I’ve started on this journey and it’s emotionally overwhelming. When I started I half expected to be made fun of or told I wasn’t any good. Never in a million years would I think I’d be here.

I put my heart out there and am my most vulnerable when I cast. It’s an exhilarating feeling like little else I’ve experienced, but it’s also terrifying in its own way. But every time I hold true to the promise I made to myself back at the start.

It’s never a performance when I cast. It’s just me. And I can never thank the people enough who appreciate me and what I do.

I simply cannot put a price or value on the idea that people like me for genuinely being me, after struggling with that sense of self worth for so long. Even if I never casted again after Heroes of the Dorm, the experience and takeaways from coming here to do this has genuinely changed my life.

Casting has given me a sense of confidence in myself and connection to humanity I lost as a teenager and never thought I’d have again. It is truly an honor to be a part of this community.

From the bottom of my heart. Thank you.