I remain more delusionally optimistic than ever even though I changed the name of my blog to The Long Game. The delusional is still attached to optimistic because I’ve been attempting to become successful at too many things at once and still have a long way to go to profitability with all of them (or I’m just one click away). Since my work experience over the last eight years has been in the multi-tasking gig economy, it’s hard to feel like there are other options besides option Z (all of the above). My new favorite metaphor is that I'm attempting to dig my way out of debt and build a foundation for my metaphorical sand home with a plastic Doordash/Postmates spork but the tides of my own emotions keep ruining my progress.
8.75”x17” on paper
My life can now be split into two halves… much like Earth itself. Earth has BC and AD or BCE and CE; (Before Common Era and Common Era for those who do not wish to include organized religion in their history) I now have BF and AF, Before Fairfax and After Fairfax. There, I’ve officially used my UW History Degree for something; hair toss. The rest of the world has BC and AC… Before Coronavirus and After Coronavirus. I’m guessing there are many of us who struggled with their mental health throughout the force that must not be named but most of us are choosing not to talk about it. Instead, many are losing their battles with mental illness via suicide and overdosing on whatever vices they may have. The stigma for asking for help is so strong that people who bravely ask for help making their dreams come true are demonized and Go Fund Me campaigns for memorial services have instead become the norm.
8.5”x17” on paper
Before Fairfax (a mental health facility I stayed at circa May 2020), I had what some call a spiritual awakening and what others call a psychotic break due to staying up for over three days in a row fueled on pint glasses of coffee with too much honey and an eighth of a strain of weed called Jesus OG. I am blessed to have written my way through most of the Imagimania but most of it is in the form of stream of consciousness and doesn’t make much sense. I hope it becomes the notes for my autobiography but it is up to me solely if I see that project through. It has officially been added to my life’s creative To Do list alongside the thousands of other ideas rolling around in my now (hopefully temporarily) medicated brain. I’m guessing the reptilian conspiracy theories about Earth are due to the side effect of skin dryness that accompanies bipolar medication. It was actually one of the most fun experiences I’ve had “alone” in my apartment (and later my car) because I was feeling like all the musicians I’ve ever admired and/or wrote about/promoted/worked with were by my side helping me to write my Imagimania book and teach me new skills. In the recent past my Imagimania tried to guide me to LA to play Method Man and Mary J Blige’s “You’re All I Need To Get By” (the remix of course) on a 2020 style boombox (iphone) outside of my biggest crush’s house like in Say Anything. I made it to Lake Tahoe where I was made to go to a hospital and get back on meds. Aside from the four day hospital visit, it was a truly epic adventure in which I felt like I was making an iPhone movie with David Lynch, Rashida Jones, and Jason Goldwatch (among many others). Thankfully, I did not end up at his house even though I will always wonder what would have happened if I did. Side note, if I had enough money to afford this mini-vacation, I would not have ended up in a hospital. Thank you again to one of my oldest friends for helping me through my epic Imagimanian adventure financially.
11”x11” on paper
At this moment, I wholly believe that my “psychosis” was due to the fact that I’ve been in debt for so long and it makes me depressed to dig my way out of it with my metaphorical plastic spork. I’ve not been diagnosed with anything officially but after researching Olanzapine, I’ve discovered the two psychiatrists who I’ve talked to less than 8 minutes total are leaning toward bipolar. I believe that I get very happy when I’m doing awesome stuff and depressed when I must return home to my 164 square foot apartment without a kitchen (before this I was squatting in my art studio). I know I’m luckier than most and have seen 3 of my former Fairfaxian roommates wandering the streets muttering to themselves looking homeless in the last couple months; the system is truly broken. The PTSD of my own traumas (recent and distant past) has affected me more than I originally thought but I’m grateful to finally have weekly therapy appointments like we all should these days. Shout out to Medicaid for that! That said, all the men that are contributors to my PTSD still walk the streets of Seattle, their reputations untarnished awaiting their karmic returns.
11”x11” on paper
My social media is 1000% a highlight reel. The bulk of my life over the last few years is spent paying for my financially irresponsible photography trips and gluing tiny pieces of paper in my tiny apartment. That said, if I’d not gone on these trips I would not have received a grant to create a book of Seattle Street Art Photography so I know it was worth it. Once I’ve completed a photography book, I’ll have the skills to make more books in cities all over the planet and the places I’ve created in my imagination via collage. Since we’re not allowed to travel overseas now, I’m especially grateful that I quit my pizza delivery job and bought a last minute plane ticket back in October 2019. It’s the camera roll that keeps on giving with over 20,000 photos/videos so far. It’s so much easier to wander other cities and blissfully take photographs because my own city feels like struggle and PTSD central.
11”x11” on paper
On the plus side, I’ve made a bunch of great art since I last blogged and even sold two of my 3D resin collages that I made when I was squatting in my art studio (total circa $500 less eBay fees). While this did help immensely, making art all day still feels irresponsible when one is attempting to be a financially stable adult. In an ideal universe, I’d have an art manager to help me with the money and promotion parts but I have yet to write the correct email sent to the right person to get that going… instead I’m medicated and alone in an apartment so small that it is no longer legal to build them; partially paralyzed by the stigma of my own reality. I’ve finally renamed it The Den Of Healing and Infinite Potential (it was previously The Den Of Mental Illness) in hopes to manifest a more positive reality. In spite of all this, I’m actually in great spirits and recognize that I’m closer than ever before to a sustainable art career because I finally asked for help. I’ve abandoned all my vices again aside from sugar so I’m weed free for almost a month now. Alcohol isn’t one of my vices these days but I did drink champagne once when I felt the need for a head change (end result… stomach ache); now when I have the urge to drink I have a Pedialyte mocktail. Thankfully, I do not have any vices that could kill me or I’d surely be dead already.
The biggest MFDALÍ yet at 28”x16” … on thrifted wood panel
I’m delivering Doordash and Postmates to make a living which is a more extreme version of living paycheck to paycheck. I know that it is my art that will help me level up in life and graduate to a new income bracket so I continue to work on my collage art, stop motion animations, interviews, and writing whenever I feel so inspired. Resin projects are tricky in this space but it seems buyers prefer to buy ready to hang pieces; this could also be because I’ve not made commercials at the ocean for any of my paper collages or even said yes when asked if they were for sale. I’m still leaning toward keeping the MF DALÍ collages together for a show at the Florida Dalí Museum when I release the stop motion animation series and concept album. I know I dream extremely big but what are delusions of grandeur for someone who has had Ariana Grande and Mac Miller in the backseat of their car? I can’t wait to see what I make happen next… MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU ALL.
SONG OF THE DAY
Shabazz Palaces “Bad Bitch Walking”
