I USED TO BE CREATIVE

To clarify I am still VERY creative but for a company. I am paid to be creative on demand. That can be difficult but exciting. I am trying to find the inner hustle, sparkle, drive to do this for myself again.

So while I am sorting out my things [AKA my life] I decided to take a trip down memory lane and take a peek at my college sketchbook. I am pretty impressed with it honestly.

There were acetate pockets, memories from my study abroad program at London College of Printing. I learned to silkscreen there among other things.

I got to see Damien Hirst in his heyday, well he’s always in constant heyday as far as I am concerned. He is an inspiration. I will get to posting about my favorite people another day.

Any way, I will start again to be creative for myself— I will start adding my illustration and painting projects and ideas, I will thumb through another sketch book perhaps.

I will get better at this I promise. I think I need another camera rig type item [suggestions appreciated]

Anyway while I listen to Death From Above 1979 I am thinking about my life. I lost my mom just over a month ago. I will unpack that another day. But I did happen to speak with a psychic medium randomly the day before the 1 month marker of my mom's passing. I waited 4 freakin' years for an appointment and they called all the way back in February, so I chose a lovely day in May to go visit with her. Who knew what life would deal our family and the world at that point, but her appointment couldn’t have come at a better time.

She said my Grandparents, mainly my grandmother told her to tell me I was talented. I shouldn’t doubt it. I was creative. I needed to know.

She also said my mom was proud of me and maybe I didn’t know it in life but from where she is now she needed to make sure I knew that [I REALLY needed to know this]. Again, it could be a whole other post with my learnings from this reading.

I am very talented. I am. I will be. I will do more. I will get back my mojo/juju/magic/sparkle. It has been dulled so long.

I am bipolar. I have clinical depression and anxiety. Now fibromyalgia is creeping in. I want these things to be normal and not used against me. I am a person with feelings. I just happen to have a mental illness, its chemical its not my choosing.

But my darkness has dulled my shine. I am clawing my way out of the dark hole. I have ideas. I truly do. Not just my Amy style drawing/collages/paintings. BUT large scale abstract paintings all in my brain. Something I never have done I don’t even know where to start but I see the colors and shapes in things [AKA my mess in my apartment but blurry and magnified].

I have ideas. I need to clear space not only in my apartment but in my mind.

Well I guess that is it… here is me fumbling around trying to share college Amy’s brain through her sketch book [man if I could go back]

Net take away on college Amy:

* She was un-diagnosed with mental illness. She struggled, A LOT.

* I was loved [its true! I had actual boyfriends!!] ALSO who was this dorm neighbor Alex?! I remember he was cute, funny, nice and from Connecticut. He gave me a photo of the war of the world spaceship that I silk screened on. He taped notes to my door. I liked him but I had a boyfriend, Jake who came to London with me. Alex, are you still out there?

* I randomly called myself KIT [there was a tagging phase I mean it was the 90's in NYC]

* I was in London when my beloved Grandma passed away—I had a crazy dream one night woke up and sent her a 5 page letter telling her how much she meant to me and gave her a little wool sheep from Scotland that I bought on a trip to Inverness. She died just days after my sister Donna randomly went to her house to get mail. Donna read the letter to her at the hospital. She was cremated wearing my sheep pin while I was in London clueless. Well... maybe not so much I woke up after a nightmare of loosing teeth, I called home my sister Jeanette who lived in Florida answered the phone I got confused. I remember asking why she was there and hearing her speaking loudly to my mom "we NEED to tell her" she did. I was all alone in a pay phone in cold dark London crying. Jake and I had a fight earlier that evening I stomped out of his flat alone to go to the phone booth. It still makes me sad to think about. If I dream about teeth falling out bad shit happens, ALWAYS.

* I was always creative, creating and excited

* I took a lot of post cards, picked a lot of stickers off things and cut tons of shit from news papers and magazines.

* I was brave even though I had no idea.

* I traveled!

OK BLAH BLAH BLAH I will post more on more of the following:

* Mental health— FUCK come on people let’s make this normal [well at least its my normal]

* My favorite people that I don’t know [there's many]
 
*The reading from the most amazing Medium [she told me to use my voice— she said she saw a blog, literally the day she told me this I had clicked onto this ancient museum of musings, last post 2013]

*Art stuff [my sketch books, paintings, drawings]
 
*Cool shit I see and like

Any way. I ramble its OK. I also write like Yoda speaks sometimes-- deal it it you will. If you made it here you are a true star ✨ I will be back with more.

*also to note, I abuse my [bracket] and [!!!!!] privileges