Yesterday morning my little 11 year old 5lb Pomeranian died suddenly with no warning… I have been devastated. Especially being so unbalanced lately with meds and starting my senior semester as a psych research student. Out of all of this, all my friends were nowhere to be found. For months I lost my spark. The one that drives creativity but yesterday I found it in the strength and grief and love for my old companion.

This is what came of it… the last picture is basically finished just need a few finishing touches but in pain is art and in art is pain and in that is solace. Remember that.


I remember yelling at the school counselor who was on the phone with my parents, “ if you send me to boarding school, I’m going to kill myself!”

I was 16. After school, at 7pm, my parents took me to the hospital. My first hospitalization ever.

I’m not going to get into it because this is not what this post is about.

One of the days I was there, my brother came to visit with his then college girlfriend.

I had always loved art. Never took any art classes but I loved art.

Well, my brother comes with this blue beautiful sketchbook and charcoal. Which I had never had or used before. I had only really ever doodled or painted when I was a child.

Well, here I am now, 30. This is a photo of one of my most prized possessions, now a tattered, falling apart old beautiful blue sketchbook and 11 of my charcoal drawings from that time.

Please if you wish, let me know how they make you feel.


What I really think about: texts to my boyfriend.

What’s happened to art? It’s not raw and real anymore. It’s all edited and photoshopped, now. No one cares to see the real beauty in things anymore. It’s so sad. We have this one life, this one place in the world and everyone is too busy trying to edit it to really see the true beauty of it all. There is so much in this world and people just don’t see it. It’s not enough for them anymore. I miss when things were so simple.

We have this innate need to complicate the world. To try and make it something that it’s not. To not see the beauty that’s already there. To need more. It’s so sad. Life is so beautiful and strange and magical. It doesn’t need a filter. We don’t need more.

I think I’m a really strange and rare soul. I have never met anyone who thinks the way I do about the world and life and the love and beauty. I wish there was a way I could touch the lives of millions, spread my words, my love, my art. Not because I want to be famous but because I want to save the world. I want to help people, I want to leave my mark on this world for the better. I want so much but if I can just raise children to see the world as beautifully as I, then that will be enough for me.