Truth is I’m long overdue for one of these things. So-much-so that I don’t know where to begin.
With that said, like a wise friend once told me,
“Start at the beginning.”
Since the tail-end of 2015, I’ve been wrapped under ill health. I’ve hinted at it here before, but never blatantly stated there is something very wrong going on in my body that could possibly cost me my life.
I guess I didn’t want to worry you.
I didn’t want to add to your stress.
I could barely accept it myself.
After all, I am a mother.
Months of Work With No Reward
Book covers and album art might seem like easy work to someone outside of my field. Until they try it themselves and see just how grueling it can be. Most quit within the first year.
It takes a trained eye to be able to determine what is going to pull a person in. Concept artists are in the business of bringing your visions to life. This sometimes involves an almost spiritual gift to “see” into someone’s head.
I’ve been at this now professionally past the year mark. The job itself has come with countless rewards. These past few months have been different, though. It seems nothing I’m working on is getting off the ground.
More Hate (As Usual)
Riding off to run errands one morning I hear a distinctly familiar voice on the radio. He was being interviewed by a popular shock jock around these parts (and nationally). The man went on trashing some female that he only referred to as “some chick on Instagram.”
Needless to say that “chick” was me and that interview cost me some clients. I’ll spare you the details. This person doesn’t even know me. They only know of me, due to the fact we move in similar circles.
It didn’t stop there.
After the atrocities going on in my country, I could no longer allow myself to stay silent on certain topics sadly deemed “political” issues.
This has gotten me labeled, attacked, and ultimately shunned. All because I am sticking up for people who’s voices get silenced daily. But, this is not new to me. I had the same role growing up in school. I’m used to standing up to bullies in defense of my friends. Though just like then, sooner or later, I expect to be attacked or silenced—just like them. This does not mean I’ll stop; no, much to the contrary. I simply acknowledge that this is a tough fight, that will probably still be going on long after I meet my end.
The hardest part about writing this isn’t publishing it.
It’s the knowing that most of this will go over people’s heads.
It’s the knowing that the same people who slashed me up for being “too positive” all the time will criticize this for being “too negative.”
It’s the feeling that this could possibly be the last thing I write.
It’s the knowing that no matter what I do, I can’t fix any of it. (And I’m a control freak.)
It’s the knowing that no matter what height I reach, someone will always be there to knock me back down.
Though despite all of this shit, I will not give up or give in. Heaven knows I’ve been through worse.
As long as I’m still here there’s a chance to spin this all around. After all, I’ve got things planned and that doesn’t stop just because I’m ill.
Family & Friends
My sister is having a baby. I’ll be an auntie this May. I wish I could say this is cause for celebration but, sadly my relationship with my sister is becoming strained. I want to be there with her when she delivers. I want to help solve all of her problems. But I can’t. I’m not always available when everyone needs me. Some people in my life understand that. Most don’t. I have a demanding job, an even more demanding side-job, and I’m the mother of a child that needs extra care. Some people misinterpret this as me not caring for them. Now, I can add my own flesh and blood to that list.
No Time to Wallow in the Mire
Even with all of that heavy muck, I have no time to stop. There’s a client waiting on my work as we speak. I have three days to make magic happen. There’s a Sleepy Sundays piece of artwork waiting to be published for you bright & early. My son needs me 24/7, and that doesn’t stop when I’m sick. It’s open season on every single person I love, so you know I’m not going to shut up about all that anytime soon. Not while people I care about along with myself are persecuted, ridiculed, labeled, silenced, and shoved away.
I could just shut down. It would be easy. It would feel good. I’d get some much-needed peace.
But what fun would that be? I’ve been sent here to create—to heal.
Someone I care deeply about that has been somewhat of a mentor to me this past year and well into 2017 recently said,
“I can’t live in a world without art.”
So why in the world would I let that happen? As long as I live and breathe here on this Earth, why would I ever stop?
I was born for this.
So c’mon baby light my fire…