“It was all displaced and spilled out.”

-Star Trauth

What’s in store this time?

In my first season, I introduced you to my art and invited you to peek in and see how my cancer journey was affecting me and my thoughts on the whole art process. 

I am coming out of the other side of that journey and it’s almost as scary as the disease and treatment were. Everything has changed. I wasn’t prepared for that. My lfe stripped to the bone forced me to take stock in what is important and what will make up my life going forward.

This season I invite you on my journey from process to fruition as my art begins again. 

I have tried many ways to describe my creative process and most often feeling I failed. This time away gave me the space to think. I feel like I have fully realized how my process works. 

My art process is externalizing experiences while internalizing music. Exchanging one for the other. It gives my mind the space to create. In some cases it helps to resolve issues and to heal. That is where my art happens. 

The process is threefold; the art, a personal story, and a piece or collection of music.

I look forward to taking you on the journey.

Misery and Mine
I was psychologically and physically pushed and fell all the way down. A glooping, seeping pit of despair. My body hist and on top of my heart suffering, my mind in misery, and my soul in dispair, I was  livid. Not because I fell, I have fallen before. I have always managed to pick myself up and make myself into a better iteration of me. It wasn’t even because I was suffering, in misery, in despair, or even that I was livid. 

I was angry, because it was suggested to me that this newest round of nonsense could be fodder for creativity going forward. Almost as if it were OK to mistreat me because I could materialize those actions into something interesting or beautiful. As if an artist is due pain to feed their craft. Because it had been suggested to me I had no choice but to act on the seed planted in my head. I’m competitive. I couldn’t ignore creative endeavors because I was hurting. I had to thrive to prove to myself to those around me that I was not going to stay down. I was not going to stay beaten. even if I was suffering, even if I was abused, even if I was way down, I was going to do what I always do get up, move on, and be the star that my parents meant me to be.

The piece has no voids, much like I couldn’t afford to have any while working my way back. No space for anything negative to creep in and try to beat me down. It’s thick like a creative cushion for me to land on. It’s also my favorite color to bring me comfort while working on it for hours. Misery and Mine was made for me and me alone with no tought to anything or anyone else other than what I was going through.