05/16/2026
Hello Everyone- This is my PSA that sometimes things suck and the process sucks and you sometimes feel like you suck...but you keep doing it anyway even though noone cares and you think they think you suck. Everyone loves aesthetic final reveals. Right now, I am showing you how in the past 36 hours my creative process looks like a total mental health crisis. Please swipe along the photos for my narration that noone gives a s**t about: 1) Let it fly: A mixed media piece that was born out of a watercolor crayon scribble. A literal scribble supposed to trigger my "intuitive art process." I wanted to keep it all watercolor but then I got pi**ed off and used pastels...hated that...and then used acrylic. I still am pi**ed off. Yesterday I loved it. Today I hate it. 2) The ET Still Life: A bowl with unnatural fruit in an unnatural kitchen on an unnatural planet. I started this a few months ago and (obviously) still thinking about the unnatural portrait of the unnatural nuclear family will look on that green kitchen wall. I hate math. Don't make me do geometry please. 3) The Jar of Whatever: Just one of the containers of weird s**t I've collected over time. Notice the maggots. I tried to make a maggot French barrette. I threw it in the trash in frustration. I thought I had every type of adhesive known to man. I am clearly incorrect on this. 4) Prep Work For God-Only-Knows: Centepedes, Death Head Moths, and Centipedes getting a do-over. These will go in a separate jar when I'm done. 5) The KitchenAid Stand Mixer Upgrade: So excited to have finally acquired one and I'd like it to emulate the energy of a kitchen line cook as accurately as possible. So I am giving it a hood ornament and googly eyes. It will also have many tattoos. 6) The Supposed Well-Intentioned Hand: I hate him. Hands. I hate hands. 7) The AEW Wrester-Turned-Coming To America-Shaman: The action figure of a pro-wrestler I absolutely loathe but cannot get enough of. He's so stupid and gross. I had some fabric and made him a new outfit. I took away his microphone. I humbled him...just as I have been humbled. He is demoted to MGH...where he will be unrecognized, underpaid, and abused by the administration (ME) when I've reached my absolute creative limit. The morale of the story is: the only way to Carnegie Hall is practice. And practice looks unhinged, messy, and occasionally getting disgusted and throwing s**t in the trash. Embrace the chaos. Let your unfinished paintings cool down. Don't be afraid to simply PLAY. Because PLAY is necessary for creativity. And creativity is one of the only things we have that when we use it...there is ALWAYS more.
