It has been a long time since I filled this space. It certainly hasn’t been for lack of words, or creative things to write about. By now we all know my greatest way of expressing myself is when I give myself some room to write it. It is my sacred raw art.
Art seem so vast when considering what an artist is. When you create you are art. I recently have received this in my heart knowing that my creativity, what I birth into the world, is my personal artistic expression.
A young beautiful spirit helped me to recognize and honor this recently. I was laying on her table as she tattooed my shoulder and arm for hours. She was discussing her own journey as an artist. She was not born to only be a tattoo artist, but a beautiful botanical water color painter and all around creator. There are things even she has not released about her potential or what will move her that is to come. She knows, however, she does not need to be defined only on what pays her bills for the moment. As she discussed this with me, I felt a deep kindred response in spirit to this.
My nine lives that people love to kid that I have lived in one life, isn’t because I give up easy, it is because I need to create new. I need to grow an change. I am forever budding and blossoming. I can never stay in stagnancy and create. I can never birth to the world my best self when I am sitting in repressed pain and numbing. I need to feel it all, heal, and rebirth.
I haven’t been missing from this space because of lack motivation or inspiration, but because of movement. The past year I have finally produced what God has asked me to do for decades. I finally wrote a book proposal of my memoir. It has plucked every part of my being out of me and into my art. I literally poured my heart and soul into it. Today my friends, I deliver it.
It contains all of who I am, and how God has moved me through it. It released generational pain that I repressed in hopes it would disappear. It reshaped my art as no longer inspirational, but of my deeply raw core, clutching for mercy upon the reader. My art for the very first time, exudes all me, in all nature.
Not so surprisingly, the tattoo I recently got from the beautiful artist, symbolized this. Not only was it an ode to the major women in my life and how our favorite flower is a peony, it was about growth. The beautiful artiest portrayed the story of how I often bloom in beauty, but also struggle in a bud waiting to bloom.
Life as an artist, regardless of what it is, is the ebb and flow of allowing room for the “and both”. We must continue in honoring what helped us to blossom, while also sitting in the process of the bud to bloom.
I am grateful to be able to birth words into the world that impact others, simply by being who God has created me to be.


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