I never dealt with death well, ever since the passing of my father in December 2000… A Christmas I will never forget…
When my grandmother (the only one I ever knew) was close to death, going through chemo, I had the opportunity to see her one last time. I’m glad I did.
People wonder why I don’t seek validation for my art…
Why the numbers don’t matter to me…
Why do I persist, even when I get rejected…
What keeps my fire lit, even when everyone tries everything they can to extinguish it…
In that hospital bed, my grandmother laid there in a weakened state; I foolishly thought I would never see her in.
Even in a state of being in which she could not speak, I showed her my designs for the Passion Over Fear Exhibition and some of the paintings from the Reject The Status Quo Exhibition on my phone. She looked at the designs and looked at me. I could see the pride in her eyes as she began to slightly crack a smile. She knew that one of her grandchildren would be amongst the stars, and in that moment, I did too.
Just that simple interaction gave me more belief in myself than any experience in my life. So much, I couldn’t even go to her funeral. I couldn’t afford to know it was over. As delusional as it may seem, my mind didn’t want to see the finality of her existence. I couldn’t afford to restart that cycle of depression again. My spirit can’t afford to let her down.
Recognized or not. regardless of who said what, what is done, or what is thought; my art will see the light of perpetual existence.