making it messy



I slept terribly last night and the night before that. For some reason, my hips and legs have been on fire the last two nights. Chalk that one up to a crappy pair of flip flops I've been wearing because the weather got warm. Note to self: don't buy super cheap wedge flip flops from your local grocery store when your nice ones with the arch support break after a drunken weekend at the Ren Fest. Then again, maybe it's just too much Lego time on the livingroom floor. #mominjuries #draggettingold

Anyway, I could've gone back to sleep this morning after pooping popping three Advil. Because I really needed some extra z-time. I could've curled up with my dog and cat and waited for my son to come screaming in asking for cookies or some other five-year-old nonsense. Damn spring break to the Sarnac pit. But I didn't and all because I couldn't wait to deface this blog. So I had my first cup of coffee since last weekend and got to work.

I wanted to mess it up with doodles and scrawled writings and whatever really weird shit I could come up with. This morning, all sleep deprived me could think was "let's fuck that thing up". Because it's too pretty and it's too fake and even I feel like it's trying to sell me something. And hey, maybe we could argue it sort of is. I mean, I do have to make money and I do it by selling my art online. Maybe this is all one big ruse.

Honestly, that's not what this place is about anymore though I think it might've started that way. And that's really not what my art is about either. Believe it or not, I really want to say something only I can say. Trent Reznor may be the realest, art-for-the-sake-of-art mofo in the world, but dude still gets paid for saying his peace - for doing his thing the only way he can do it. If money had been his sole motivator, I'm pretty sure he could've made some easy dinero off catchy, love-to-hate pop songs instead of screaming on Pretty Hate Machine. Of course, I'm not comparing myself to Trent. That's just some kind of blasphemy.

My art has always been about love, authenticity, freedom, fearless expression, and being proud of your unique weirdness. That's not going to change, no matter what gets sold and what doesn't. The world doesn't need more homogenized, mind-numbing sameness. It needs us to fight to find the courage to be different, to embrace our inner freakshows and give everyone a chance to love and accept us for being the best versions of humanity we can be. It's not easy. Hey, that's cool. It doesn't have to be. Because we're not alone. Not one of us.

I think I've come to understand why this blog matters to me now. It represents part of my journey where I remember who I am, where I get my confidence back, where I stop being concerned about what everyone else thinks and give myself permission to fully exist and participate in the collective consciousness thing again. It's cathartic in a way I guess.

For the last few years I've been edited, stifled, and afraid. There have even been times I wouldn't share a recipe or some dumb thing on my social media because I was afraid a few wonderfully earnest and sweet vegan friends of mine would be offended if there was cheese in it. But here's the thing... I love cheese! We could debate the moral/health issues surrounding dairy all day but it doesn't change the simple fact that me at this very moment is in to cheese. Maybe I won't be one day but this is my unique journey and I'm allowed to embrace every little stupid extra-sharp-cheddar-filled morsel of it without shame-fear. Because I'm just as worthy as anyone else. And so are you.

Let the revolution roll on.

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