Everybody needs more mugs, right!? Especially when they're as cool as this one. Top quality 11oz mug, complete with a sturdy handle and glossy Orca coating.
Drawliver is somewhat elusive, prolific and extremely nice. He doesn’t talk about himself much, only that he’s 19, non-binary (they/them or he/him pronouns) and that he’s somewhere out there in Florida. What he won't tell you is that he's extremely popular, or that when you’re linked to his page there’s a sense - unfamiliar to brains fried under the 24/7 compulsory assault of digital marketing - that you’re actually being shown something worth your time. Something special.
He draws a lot, fast, constantly. Hundreds of tender, funny, sometimes erotic and weird images daily populate his page as it unfolds endlessly towards the footer in what feels like a digital tapestry. They seem strangely close - maybe because he draws/edits only (!) on his phone, the format is always-already optimized for our screens, our attention spans, our dissociative coping patterns, our habit of laughing at something serious without smiling before scrolling past.
No two images are alike: characters and themes peek in, linger, sharply drop out, reassemble, re-merge, revisit. Dogs, bunnies, teenagers leaking out their guts, Digimon-esque dragons and chimeras work peak through dense layers of broken up fantasy lore, poke their heads through bits of sad horoscopes and cheery allusions to a kind of gay futuro-satanism. His light, vivid doodles set up sophisticated thought experiments about the nature of perception, the physics of vision, the limits of language. It’s internet art at its best: light and escapist but always clever and experimental, and even at its simplest (black handwriting on a white background) - saturated with feeling. The unapologetic aura of longing for childhood is shot through with the sharp and painful awareness that time can never be turned back. A talented adult at the zenith of his artistic career, he’s captured the eyes of thousands but - 'I still always goof up small stuff’ - he writes, citing unglamorous problems with processing and interaction familiar to many autistic people. Conflicting affects - closeness and mistrust, connectedness and aloneness, the joy of immersion, the bitterness of rejection - make for a special tension that holds his images together, making even the smallest scribble feel coherent and truthful.
We are piloting an initial range of Drawliver products, but watch this space for new additions.
You are welcome to visit Drawliver’s Facebook page and commission Autistic Empire for custom merch (mugs, t-shirts and tote bags).
Email us and we will let you know if we can do it.