The course of 2020 has taken us all on a journey of self-discovery. My prayer has been that humanity is delivered to a place of greater alignment. I believe that my prayer has been heard as I have watched many of my brothers and sisters take on challenges with courage, openness and determination. Now, in January 2021, the glow-up is real.
Oh how my brothers and sisters have changed: A baby was formed, a body refined, a relationship bound, a home found, or a heart opened, a friendship made… and it was love that brought it all about.
There was a time in my life when I thought of love as payment. I thought love was something that had to be won or deserved. When people disappointed me, I took my love away. Taking love away is an extraordinarily painful thing to do and this pain made me classify people and experiences in ways that I felt would keep me from cutting cords.
I believed men were selfish and afraid of love. I believed that the way I looked, my sexuality, and my independence would give me the greatest chance at intimacy. I believed that success meant that I had to live solely off of my art and that awards and exhibitions meant I was good.
What manifested from those beliefs was a series of superficial relationships, a cocktail of eating disorders, compulsive fitness routines, and a materialistic relationship with my art. I felt completely unknown, misunderstood and exhausted.
Growing up, I was the city girl, transplanted into rural Kentucky. I was anti-religious, outspoken, and dressed differently. I looked much older than I was and men started treating me like a woman when I was barely thirteen. In school, the boys grabbed my body inappropriately and on a couple of occasions use aggressive force. Girls bullied me and even the administration found reasons to send me home because of my appearance.
I’ve been told my whole life that artists rarely “make it” and it is still commonplace for people to either shame me for not getting a real job or point out how I have sold out because I also work as a designer. According to them that isn’t art, apparently. Magazines, teachers, family, friends, movies, advertisements…. It feels like my culture wants me to feel ashamed for all the things I am and hold me accountable for the things I am not.
Since the moment of my conception, I have approached life backwards. I am a stargazer-breech-lovechild who refused to turn. Before I learned my mother’s tongue, I spoke my own. Once I learned her language, what I had to say was safer left unsaid, so, I turned to paint instead.
Sometimes the things we love in life are cultivated by what we fear most and our weaknesses often shape our style. For this reason, it is important that all of us take time to examine and come to terms with the shadows of our passions. Becoming aware of the shadow means facing fears and accepting the parts of ourselves that we reject, disown and deny.
For me, painting was a response to the fear of being misunderstood and shamed for what I had to say. Putting my perspective into paint allowed me to shroud myself in mystery and protect my heart.
For many of us, 2020 has been a golden opportunity for realization.
Collectively, we are bringing to light the aspects of our culture that negatively drive our development. The last eon of human history saw the Roman Catholic Church and its decedents sow seeds of shame and pass on this tradition to countless institutions.
Though we may no longer live under a totalitarian regime like North Korea or China, our culture uses the weapon of shame to control the population. From Bible School to Academia, the practice of shaming turns our personas into a prison. Becoming aware of our truth and the trauma of shame is key to our liberation.
The more outspoken I am, the more people try to shame and criticize me. It has come from friends, family, and strangers. Some have called my family members to gossip about my beliefs. People I never think of reach out to distant friends to confirm my list of isms. Just yesterday, someone wrote me to say “Do you have no shame?”. Today another friend reached out to my partner to ask if I am a racist and “make sure that he’s okay”.
This all came about because of posts I have shared on Instagram. In one post I wondered if the Pope had been arrested for child abuse, sharing a note from a well-known defamation lawyer, Linn Wood. The second post I shared was a comment on “white guilt” by a young, black, male author and Christian, Samuel Sey (@slowtowrite). How ironic that two liberal white men would feel entitled to shame me for amplifying topics of severely marginalized groups: conservative black men and victims of ritual child abuse.
Unlike people who feel entitled to characterize and shame me, I have given enormous amounts of time and thought to articulating my perspective. Through, essays, poems, artwork and open correspondence I have illustrated the complexity of what I see happening in our world today and have given effective solutions that we can all implement right now to help the situation. All of which is publicly available for free.
The trouble is that fear and ignorance are at the core of the compulsion to shame which makes openness to alternative perspectives nearly impossible for those still suffering from institutionalization. We are all survivors of the institution. In our culture, punishment and shame is disguised as education. So, it is understandable that some people lash out when they don’t understand.
I am well aware of the effects the institution has on the spirit. Healing these deep collective traumas is at the core of humanity’s evolution. That is why I have given my life to understanding, illustrating and presenting ways to help us heal.
For this healing to happen; wisdom, self-awareness and self-control are essential - and it begins with me. For me that means thoughtfully expressing my truth – no matter the cost.
So, yes, I have no shame.
There is no room for shame in a truly free society and I will lead us to that future by example.