Freelance Agreement: This all builds character
Cool exterior. Toxic interior. That’s how it has been for a while. An escapade that ruined it all. Thinking, concentrating and even texting became unrecognizable tasks. It sucks out all your being then leaves you down right isolated. You feel pathetic. You feel guilty that you’re incapable of expressing yourself to your family. It’s a vicious cluster-fuck-cycle that no one understands, yourself included. You have to take medication just so you can face your own reflection or to numb yourself out of pain.
The human brain can endure so much before it hits a breaking point. A peak I’ve reached a few times secludedly. I’m not asking for an easy life but I don’t recall signing the “extreme” contract at birth either. Maybe I refused to read the fine prints or my grant of rights “…your life includes but is not limited to all types of bullshit, get ready for the big one!” One second will change the rest of your life.
I firmly believed that I was defrauded into signing this contract. But then I realized I never had a choice because you don’t sign it. There isn’t even space for your signature. You don’t have to be afraid of making decisions because they’ve all been made for you. But anything is negotiable in a contract and since I’ve paid my universal dues, this time I’m writing my own terms and signing it. After 365 days I’ve made it to this chapter. The anniversary of my loss and rebirth is celebrated.
I was lucky enough to come back and edit my contract. It took two consecutive months in the hospital, four days on life support, learning how to walk again, dealing with emotional and psychological scars but I’m still here.You’re still here. Most people don’t get a second chance and my progress wouldn’t have been possible if it wasn’t for a strong support system. It goes without saying that the obvious has to be mentioned, My family, friends and Brandonn who all treated me like nothing ever changed. Who pushed me with courage, sincerity and genuine love. Who put up with my bullshit, mood swings and confusion. Short and simple: THANK YOU. And to those that left: you’re no longer part of this contract. I won’t miss you, fuck off and feel free to visit me at my funeral.
Don’t wait for that perfect moment. Say what you feel. Get what you deserve. Risk it all. Be a fool for love. Live to live and count your daily blessings. Don’t let “If only…” become part of your vocabulary. Life is so simple we’ve just made it hard. You can rewrite your contract, don’t settle for a shitty one. See you at the top ‘cause that’s where I’ll be. Eventually.
PS. this seems fitting.
11:58 pm • 25 July 2013 • 3 notes
Toronto has been experiencing a serious heat wave during the past week. It’s safe to say that a corporate drug dealer came to my rescue, for only a dollar. What more could you ask for? Fast, cheap and tasty! Let me say this again: $1.
4:26 pm • 21 July 2013 • 2 notes
She looks calm. But you have no idea what is going on inside her mind.
1:47 am • 15 July 2013 • 2 notes
I’m sure it’s possible but scanning, colour testing, levels and hitting the history button and repeating about 10 more steps on photoshop gets beyond irritating. The scan doesn’t do justice to what the original exudes. This (one of many reasons) being why I prefer originals. Raw, unedited, flawed and perfectly as intended. Having to duplicate exactly ‘as is' is tough. Maybe, I need some photoshop lessons. I just can't seem to get it right with this specific colour combination. Ya'll feel my pain. Right?
In other random news, this song has been on heavy rotation since the “Magna Carta Holy Grail” has been dropped. I really hope there is a full version to this.
10:51 pm • 5 July 2013
We can only predict so much, you know? There is a reason why it’s called human error. We’re not perfectly calculated beings that practice without mistakes. We fail and that’s just what it is, this print being a perfect example. A lot can go wrong when you’re screen printing but there’s beauty to that if you are willing to allow it. Haloing, wonky registrations and uneven printing can become part of the experiment. It forces your vision to shift, to consider a new composition or come across happy accidents that take your piece from good to great. So…trust the process. Whether it’s your personal life or three hours in the studio.
Stay tuned for the final.
8:47 pm • 22 June 2013
I was amnesic after the accident. I only remembered what I wanted to do most: Screen print. Though at the moment it’s the most painful and labour intensive process, I wanted to get back into the swing of things. Accident or not, painful or not, I know now why I love this medium so much. I’ve lived in my own world for the past year and today was the first time I felt…like me (sorta). Just me at the studio. Getting lost in the process…
Keep posted for the final(s) pieces.
2:50 am • 11 June 2013 • 3 notes
To feel. What a strange sense of awareness. To utterly feel, ultimately is understanding the verb, but to genuinely have your mind set programmed to gratitude is another ball game.
Simple tasks are a blessing. Writing this post, even though I’m in a shit load of physical pain, still means I’m alive. I’m able to be here. Right now. In the moment. The time you took to open your browser, the tea you made earlier and the little steps you took to go to the washroom, those are moments to appreciate. Because a little less than a year ago I wouldn’t have been able to do any of those things.
Which brings me here: I was told to write down how I feel. Keep track of my thoughts, document this journey and to help improve my memory. But most importantly to step outside of the box and measure my progress. I’m just going with the flow, counting my daily blessings and resting as much as I can. Trying to feel alive. Really…trying.
12:28 am • 28 May 2013
We’ve all had experiences where we’ve dealt with unrealistic expectations even with the knowledge of failure. This one is titled #selfie.
8:27 pm • 14 May 2013 • 4 notes
I’ve been searching for words other than creative block to illustrate (no pun intended) my current creative mental state. There was a period of time in which I felt extremely inspired, but I wasn’t physically capable of creating. These tiny little stems grew out a bit and despite all the physical bullshit I’ve been going through for the past 10 months I hit a point where the physical pain became a little more manageable. And then came “the now”. I’m stuck and I feel betrayed by my own passion. There are no branches and I feel like the stems are beginning to dry up. I feel like shit.
12:36 am • 13 May 2013 • 2 notes