KUPERGRASS

  Moms old Otis art institute notes. Swingers cafe w/ Christine  PETA cow mural Next to chickens vet. (Christine’s frenchie)  The valley. My old garden getting destroyed. Research 🧐 

 

 

 

 

 Creation of new life & new love and all that came from my life before. It’s all good and valid.  Now to eat.  Well rounded. (Like round faced round short me) 

“I am strong. I am capable. I am ready” -what moms best friend used to write on post it notes for me.  Now it’s true. Even if I had to stop talking to her.   Sometimes that pumpkin cold brew from Starbucks and a giant ice green tea is a real cute for sadness. It’s true.  Chris’s brother is a woodworker. There’s a pile of wood on the corner as the family there is also moving.  I didn’t text.  I ordered a burrito and Izzy soda from chipotle.to eat on the front steps of the demolition zone that used to be my studio.  Change is physical right now. Change is emotional.  Change so much change.  It is not right to shame or hate the people who  We’re mean or wronged me. I have to take note and have enlightenment in my self that they sent me on this path and that. I am grateful for this.  Acceptance. It’s not all black & white.  There’s grace here today.  This painting was given to me by someone who gifted me the knowledge of how shitty the art world is  What once was such a big deal to me,

 As Chris picked up the wheel barrow from his family and the garden tools he used as a child I cried. With shame. And I felt really sad.  His father gave those to us. To work in the garden.  My dear friend Chris. They didn’t know I couldn’t have sex. That I was in the closet and sad about it.  I really wanted a family to feel like I fit in a family.  I am crying for the life they thought we had.  I am crying for Chris. I am crying because after 8 years this house is so much work.  I am crying because Chris’s parents still want us to be married.  I am crying because that is painful.  Letting go of this house is also letting g go if the dreams Chris’s family had for us. I am shamed again feeling the pain of my choices even though I’m free to have them. With compassion and tact I move forward today.  This is my best friend Chris we have a child together.  What looked like piles of frustrating shit is also very important to him & his family from the Midwest.  I tried my best, but could

I hate feeling imprisoned by disjointed piles of mess! So frustrating! Ah!

 As a person who loves peace and rest. Junk is the worst. Physical objects that are heavy and time consuming are the worst… and the reasons behind it! Not my own!  Oh just leave! Don’t put shit on my back or on my castle! Chris left this It’s so much I couldn’t do it. The mess. It’s for the garden work! He shouted so I wouldn’t build the studio. The garage is for the garden tools! Why not hire a gardener? I never did anything like that. Growing up we had gardeners in LA.  To someone from the Midwest that was proposterous. So the work was like prison in my mind. Always reasons why things were important.  Why I shouldn’t have my studio.  Large items like this take money to dump.  I will never allow yard junk or junk in general again.  It’s psychologically too taxing.  My “happiness lamp” turned on when I needed a moment of calm in the bathroom to hide. I remember thinking “oh, my happiness lamp” Gourds from last season. Generic door Buddha.  Bye. A gudetama egg man : ( oh I have to let g