.398 chilling with childrick

my mechanic, and friend, chill is probably tired of seeing me by now as i call him for every little squeak in my jeep.

turns out, this time...nothing was wrong. so, instead of playfully becoming a pest, i've been lovingly upgraded to...stalker.

364 day 340

.363 day 339

roughing it.

.256 day 230

i will not abandon my art.

i will not abandon my art.

i will not abandon my art.

both of my pisces parents were fellow creatives before the arrival of children. my father, as brilliant a writer as baldwin, minus the notoriety, used language so divine, his conversations spoke like poetry. he was in the midst of writing a memoir when he transitioned, a memoir whose yellowed pages (he wrote by hand) are stacked atop my bedroom shelf, waiting for my will to finish it.

my mother, a writer as well, reserved and detailed, like toni morrison, used to sketch...outfits, designs, patterns. i once found an old sketch book full of fly 70's fashions. big lapels and flapper suits, bold prints and creased bell bottoms. i was in shock. i didn't even know my mother could draw, and here lie a piece of who she was, stuffed into the bottom of an abandoned box, in the back of a neglected closet.

i was heart-broken. she gave up parts of herself...to nurture parts of my siblings and i.

when i had taylor, i vowed to stay on my path as an artist. she deserves to see the beauty of creation up-close. she needs to learn how to blend, both, art and business efficiently. all my mistakes on this path will serve as a guideline. all my triumphs will serve as inspiration...

the mixing of art and business is scary. there are days i just want to give up. where instability feels like a mark on my child's future. i have great weeks and bad weeks, extreme highs and extreme lows, and i have no idea what the future holds for our livelihood. on these days, i want to resort to school smarts, grab a 9-5 and make art just my hobby... 

(and, yet...i am nothing without...creation)

192 day 169

same day. entirely different brick wall than the three above it.

.126 day 109

my anonymously public note.

dear you.

no "play" here.

 i have no words for this blog, as there was no thought behind it. 

i saw a pipe against a bare concrete wall. i liked it. 

i saw a wooden 'ladies' sign on a green bathroom door. i liked it. 

and later, i liked it even more in black and white. 

you got that? i love you. you're my bestie. 

my heart. 

i hear you. 

(me)

.114 day 99

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