When Deep Exhaustion & Encouragement Coexist
While prepping for AnaCon 2026, a comics and sci-fi event hosted by the Anaheim Central Library, my feet dragged. I set up my table in the study the day before, wondering why everything in me said “nope, you can’t do this. You’re too tired.” Each simple task took forever. Get out cards. Sit. Drink coffee. Get out coloring books. Sit. Watch youtube. And so on. Eventually I realized that a large part of the fatigue was the feeling of discouragement.
I have spent several months burned out and unable to create. My focus has been on health and travel plans, which means my mind is intensely engaged in preventing future disaster rather than enjoying creating good things in the present. While caring for my health and making plans has been important work, I got stuck.
Getting my table out, reacquainting myself with my art, was therapeutic. It forced me to put a name to the dullness inside of me and recognize that maybe I didn’t have to feel that way.
Six. Long. Hours.
Saturday morning, Nampyeon (my husband) helped me pack up the car. He usually drives to events with me and helps carry things, but today he was taking Adeul (our son) to swim lessons. I drove off by myself, checked in at the welcome table, and carted all my stuff in. I’ve done enough events now that set up is simple. And since I’ve worked on my health this spring, it didn’t take too much out of me. The real challenge, though, was ahead.
People. Lots and lots of people. Anacon 2026 was lovely and bustling. My friend Rachel Beck, author of the Glitch Logs series, was just down the way. Very kind acquaintances Ben Matsuya and John Matsuya, makers of the Midnight Massacre Graphic Novel, set up right next to me. As attendees meandered into our corner of the library, I realized I had forgotten how to talk to strangers. The timing of when to speak up, the art of pitching the right angle to the right person, and the intentionality of connecting with strangers in small, but meaningful ways.
I was worried that my social limitations—fatigue, struggling with facial expressions, stumbling over words—would block me from doing my best. Especially as six hours of standing and talking emptied me of everything I had. But to my relief, I hadn’t lost my hard-earned tabling skills. Each interaction, while draining me of energy, filled something else inside of me. I felt exhausted, but deeply encouraged.
Sharing Goodness
I am not good at marketing. I have read books on the subject, I understand the theory, but for whatever reason I cannot. Put. It. Into. Action. When I try, my system rebels and my mind shuts down. It’s wheels spinning, doldrums looming, burnout territory.
This is why I stick with what works for me. I create what I need to create. I share my work because I want to bring goodness into the world, even if this means having a jumbled social media presence, inconsistent youtube uploads, and off-trend everything. This is awkward to say out loud in front of business-minded people. I can see a familiar look form in their eyes as they realize that I’m still living on childish dreams—goodness prevailing and all that—that are doomed to failure. And honestly they’re just being practical! In many ways they are quite correct! I am, however, also learning to measure my work by a different version of success.
For Anacon this year? My. Way. Worked. Maybe it was because the event drew in the right crowd for my work; maybe it was because I finally had a pulse on how to connect with people. Heck, maybe it was simply because I put up a bright pink sign with “NEW!” written in Crayola marker. Whatever the reason, it was beautiful to see how people consistently recognized what I was aiming for. To boil it down? Kindness.
Moments to hold on to:
One person visited my table and eventually decided to buy a book. She tried and failed to scan the venmo code and told me how bad she is with these sorts of things. I know what it feels like to get stuck with tech, so I told her “I’m bad with tech too. I’m with you, every step of the way.” It was cheesy and silly but still genuine. I wanted her to feel good even while struggling with payment systems. She ended up paying me five extra dollars. When I caught the mistake and got the guts to tell her that she paid too much, she smiled and said “I know.”
A lot of people looked at my work and then wandered off, telling me they would circle back. In the past, that meant they’d be gone. Oh well! But a shocking number actually returned. Two women specifically returned with their eyes bright and happy as they looked at my work. They purchased what they wanted to and—God help me it was adorable—squealed with joy as they walked away.
Another group of friends told me they’d circle back, and they did indeed circle back. Twice. Each time, they said “we’re back!” or “we’re here again!” and a different friend in the group would purchase something she didn’t want to pass up on.
Children would walk up to the table with their parents. They’d grip onto a coloring book and say “I like this!” Sometimes the parents paid attention and would buy it, sometimes they didn’t. Either way, I loved seeing what the kids instinctively grabbed. Some of the younger ones didn’t quite understand that they couldn’t just walk away with the pretty flower sticker, thankfully a behavior their adults actively redirected, and it was precious every time.
Nampyeon brought me lunch, and before I knew it my little corner of the room was stuffed with people. My sister, Adeul, Nampyeon, all back there. Hanging out, eating, trying to help. None of them have developed salesmanship, so for a moment I was bummed that I couldn’t leave the table for long and get support in the area where I felt the most exhausted. But then I looked at them again. I had people who loved me literally in my corner. They showed up and kept me company and fed me and helped me with the heavy lifting. What more could I ask for?
Recovery
I am on day two of recovering from the event. My sensory overload is slowly getting better as I give my system the time it needs to re-regulate. I genuinely wish I didn’t need to take this much time to recover (laying in bed even as I type) but it’s better to accept my needs than to wish I could keep going at the pace others seem to keep up without effort.
If you’ve seen my YouTube channel, you know I talk a lot about how amazing art is for mental health and self care. Maybe it’s time for me to follow my own advice and break out a coloring book. For those of you who have my coloring books, what page should I color?
This page below comes from my latest book, Creative Escapes: Treehouse Coloring.
Bonus
Below is a photo of the magnificent Rachel Beck and her books. I am terrible at getting photos during events, there’s just so much to do that I haven’t yet gained the skill of consistent documentation, but at least I remembered to get a photo of Rachel’s setup.
I think that’s it? Yep, that’s it. I really should go color now <3 Thanks for reading, thanks for buying my work, subscribing to my random online things, and sticking around as I figure out this weird thing that is an artist’s life.
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