Tag Archives: beauty

The Unstruggling Unstarving Artist

9 Feb

I admit, I couldn’t sleep because for 30 minutes this fiery, common thought came to my mind “I’m 24, I’ve worked hard, how come I’m not getting paid what I’m worth?”

2:11AM- my birthday (2.11).

My thoughts suddenly ran wild, sparked by the madness of  the question-”should I get paid minimum wage to work at a boba shop, something I’ve always wanted to do (work at a boba shop- NOT get paid minimum wage)?” This question trickled into the question of “wow, I paid $50 per hour for 10 years to learn the cello and then I paid another $23,000 times 4 to go to fashion design school”. What is my return on investment- I’m not sure…being under-appreciated, underpaid?

I decided to throw off my covers and blog before my thoughts drove me mad. Suddenly my body craves the coffee I didn’t drink during the day.

Let’s do a rundown of how much an artist would spend……

1. Cello lessons- $50 for 10 years. 48 weeks times $50 -$2,400 times 10 years= $24,000

2. fashion design College tuition- $23,000 times 4 years- $92,000

Of course you have to take into account all the gas and supplies. But $116,000 estimated in my case. Thank god I was a good writer, this got my tons of scholarships.

Proverbs 31:31 says-  “Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.” 

I believe it’s time for artists, women to stop complaining and demand a fair wage, fair pay for their art which they have toiled and spent tremendous amount of money to develop. Thanks to a friend I recently met- he told me “I see a lot of talent in you, you need to capitalize on your strengths, you shouldn’t have to struggle”.

Nothing, nothing is impossible
No one can hold us down
We, Yeah we are unstoppable
Cause nothing is impossible
ohh ohh No nothing is impossible ohh ohh
oh nooo oh noo

If the door doesn’t open
Don’t wait use force to knock it down
Ain’t no time for mopping,
No, the moment is right now

Real talk you can touch the sky
Make no doubt about it noooo
Real talk you can sit pan high
make no doubt about it nooo
Real talk we do it for the youts, another generation
You are strong enough to meet your destiny say

Dreams, I Know About Dreams

27 Jan

 

Dreams.

Yah, I know about dreams. I dream about my dreams. I wake up with a story in my head, about my dreams.

I am a dreamer, I am a doer, I listen to my spirit and when the season says to wait, I wait. This is with extreme hardship of NOT getting off my ass and doing, cuz I’m a doer. Oh, I know about dreams. I know what it feels like to bleed for my dreams.

I know the discouragement and depression of jumping out the box, the norm of sanity.

Oh, I know about dreams. I know about insanity. I know how it feels like when people look at me with the expression of “she’s insane, why she be doing that?”, the feeling of being questioned, interrogated, misunderstood. Babe, don’t tell me I don’t know about dreams.

I know how it feels to bleed for my dreams. I know how it feels to work out of little resources, to feel the humiliation of not being able to afford food. To say “hold up”, I can’t meet up cuz I don’t have a penny to spare. Don’t tell me I don’t know about dreams.

I bleed for my dreams because I believe in it, I believe in myself and the potential my dreams have. I gave birth to them, everyday I am giving birth to new ideas and I aint letting them fade. I grab onto my ideas with my whole being, I may despair and lord knows (my friends) know my daily ups and downs, crying one minute, laughing another (the joy of being human- emotions).

I know about dreams, the world is so big inside my heart, it’s bursting forth, unable to contain itself. It’s creating worlds around me, atmospheres and people are influenced by them.

The seasons are changing and dreams are birthing, it was not an easy child birth- trust me.

I bled for them.

The best dreams are bled for, not handed to you. 

Thank you to all those that have supported me during this birthing stage. You will be blessed 10 fold, I promise- the child is a world changer.

Do you have any dreams that you are willing to sacrifice and bleed for? If so, what and what is stopping you? Remove all obstacles (fear).

When you are used to being the queen, it is hard to consider democracy replacing lone rule

16 Jan

Me in Germany

“when you are used to being the queen, it is hard to consider democracy replacing lone rule”- tracks

“For many outback people, the effect of almost total isolation coupled with that all-encompassing battle with the earth is so great that, when the prizes are won, they feel the need to build a psychological fortress around the knowledge and possessions they have broken their backs to obtain. That fiercely independent individualism was something akin to what I was feeling now- the stiffness, the inability to incorporate new people who hadn’t shared the same experience. I understood a facet of Alice Springs, and softened towards it, at that moment”- tracks

I tend to read books that happen to mirror my thoughts, my season of life. Robyn Davidson was a heroic woman who set out into the outbacks of Australia with camels by herself. I can’t tell you what happened in the desert yet because I’m only on page 75. However, the quotes above hit home for me. I live in this very environmental, hippie, vegan lifestyle, conserve everything neighborhood called Silverlake. I love meat and I don’t hug trees, but I have become used to living a communal lifestyle of sharing and living simply. Because I’ve started my own business and have to pay bills, I pretty much live month to month.

When I walk into grocery stores and shopping malls, I feel like a foreign alien. Some of my thoughts include “omg, why are people wasting money on nonsense?”, “I feel like an alien right now”, “so many people walking around”, “why do the same race congregate together”. I have slowly become some type of modern monk, but a woman. I haven’t bought groceries for 3 weeks and I borrow all my books.

Sometimes I feel myself relating to this: “That fiercely independent individualism was something akin to what I was feeling now- the stiffness, the inability to incorporate new people who hadn’t shared the same experience.”

But when I’m eating with friends that don’t live the same lifestyle, enjoying music, dancing to house music with them- I realize, we are all the same, just human with feelings and a spirit. You can choose to be prejudiced or you can choose to dance the music of life with people who are vastly different from you.

My 3-4 months of cleansing, building a new identity in being, and conversing with God has been taxing at times. Sometimes I find myself oversleeping, sometimes mad and impatient of waiting, sometimes bored, sometimes overwhelmed with my business, sometimes wishing my business was doing better, sometimes wishing I had no debt, sometimes worried and depressed from loneliness, yet…I know that nearing 24, this is a pivotal time in my life. This cleansing process is worth the journey. It is it’s own reward and hopefully (cross my fingers), next month I’ll be a better person, a more soul-filled, settled, rested, peaceful person who can love and BE better. I’ll be a better person for the world.

Insane Woman, Turned History Maker

7 Nov

I like to state my womanhood. I am a woman. I like to state it often because I embrace my womanhood.

They were, perfectly trimmed nails, manicured, perfectly waxed eyebrows, pssssttttt, seniorita, fake tanned, up-tities, gleaming lips with smack of lipgloss and perfect teeth with extra help. Fur lining their coat, fox, animal. Money blinging up and down from their toes, to their shoes, to their dresses, gleaming on their ears. Flash, choke, drown.

Drowning in luxury.

I was this ordinary woman sitting behind the booth watching as flocks and flocks of beautiful aged women walked in with their diamond rings and bags, swaying in their heels. Diamonds could not hide the wrinkles lining their eyes, their fingers, crispy and dried. I tried not to think about it, but suddenly my face froze and I zoned out.

“I can’t imagine being that woman when I’m 80 and I don’t want to be. If all our lives were…were about our outward appearance, and when I’m 70 I have perfect manicures, tattooed eyebrows, money to flood a nation….yet, no purpose, no meaning, no goals and passion…and all I did was get pedicures and have little lunch parties? and attend fundraisers (oh God bless fundraisers, without money we wouldn’t be able to fund many non-profits), but just in that moment, I zoned out and thought this…

I don’t want to be that, whatever that is.”

When I’m 70, I don’t want to spend money on all that. I want to have built orphanages with the money that could have gone to fox animal furs, diamonds, houses, rings…I want to have rescued kids from brothels, women from abuse, men from abuse…I want to have done something greater than just prove that ‘I made a lot of money in this lifetime’.

Later today, I bumped into several Hyatt hotel housekeepers. “I gotta go home now, and tomorrow I come again”- said this one cleaning person. I thought to myself, “to have the discipline and faithfulness to keep going even though you are doing mindless work…that is perseverance”. He helped me get my load off the elevator.

Suddenly, I was struck with a paradox. These well manicured, perfectly curled haired of a women would probably not raise a hand to help an ordinary woman unloading stuff off an elevator….but an ordinary, probably struggling housekeeper would find it easy to serve another human being. I was so struck with an epiphany, I almost zoned out again.

Having struggled for the past month, getting criticism about my choice of becoming a self-starter, shit from people I thought I trusted, eating ramen some days, denying my boba cravings, getting criticism from my buyers, etc….and just getting inundated with shit. I saw many things clearly.

It’s funny how we need to be drowned in dung, criticisms, hardships – to see life ever SO FREAKEN CLEARLY. 

I am so grateful for the hardships and tears I went through in the past month. So grateful. There were times I found myself doubting the inkling of my identity, times I cried while walking in downtown LA, calling a friend quick- “I’m in shit, can we talk?”.

Times I thought to myself, “what is the very purpose for which I’m created”.

Things have started to turn around, my 12 readers that do read my blog posts. Perseverance and prayers have paid off. Fate has claimed its way in my destiny. I’m victorious in my little, finding hope in the essence of love. I met people who reminded me of who I am…people who grabbed a hold of my vulnerable heart and whispered encouragement, spoke into it my deepest desires, and pushed me to get up even when blood was dripping out of my nose, my knees were wounded by rocks, back with layers of scabs, head almost insane from hunger and insanity, confusion at times. Some were close friends, some were new friends, but all were in tune with the desires of my soul. Rather than mock me for my insanity, which I am insane 99.9% of the time (1% of the time I’m sane when I listen to naysayers), they joined my insanity and became my risk-taking comrades.

We will destroy the system of conformity and complacency. We will form new beauty and create a society based on love, not profit. We will allow uniqueness to flourish and romance in the specialty of being an individual, yet conspire in being always together in our insanity. We will let the moment take us by the hand, feet with music, not by logic.

Because who said life was logical? In fact, some of the greatest history makers were insane in their own time.

Yes, if you didn’t know – you are reading a history makers’ blog.

It’s a big, huge, claim to make- maybe even a little narcissistic, but I’ve been through too much crap to give up making sense of this beautiful life. I claim what I claim because I know this is true.

What about you?

From the top of a hotel I stayed in Taiwan last year for a night. It was the best solid alone time I ever got.

Intuition told me this photo represents what I’m talking about- you can do the analyzing.

“Yourself” – A Beautiful Word

8 Oct

Self- Self is a beautiful thing.

Many people ask me in dismay “you travel by yourself?”

as though “yourself” is a despicable, ugly, loathed word, thing.

The word yourself can be taken apart to be “you R self”. To be able to to love yourself, you must know and understand self. Oftentimes we learn about ourselves by being in relationship with others…but only when you courageously spend time with yourself are you able to process who you are, in relation to your environment and community.

No. We are NEVER by ourself. The world is deeply connected at its core, we all have the same human anatomy, heart, brain, organs, desires…

to be loved, accepted, appreciated, known.

No. We are NEVER alone. Truly. I am deeply aware of my existence as a meaningful connection to those I meet.

As I travel, somewhere in time and location, I cross paths with another who is journeying as well. Our paths merge, or cross, but we were meant to meet. Some people call it an accident, I call it divine appointment. Some people are just delighted to find a friend, I see our souls commune, abstraction of spirits that words cannot suffice to explain.

We are not lovers, but when I look purposely into your eyes, gray, brown, blue, green, black- I am met with revelations of our common humanity.

If we could stop long enough in our busy lives to look deep into anothers’ eyes…we grasp and grip the essence of compassion lodged in a part of our heart for another being. Time becomes irrelevant. Plans fade. Agenda dissolves like tablets of nothing. Money, we could give it all. We would stop all mockery of the poor, the weak, the laughable beings of our current society. We would stoop low with the abandoned, we would wash the wounds of dying souls.

We would bravely smile back without a defensive heart. We would cease to protect self in fear, but boldly love the vastly different, the outcasts, we would treat others with dignity even if they no longer deserve it.

We all need a second chance, to mend our story, our past.

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