This is what I look like on a typical summer night. I've been painting for hours the past few weeks, my only company being a few glasses of cheap wine and the sweet covers Jarrett has recorded for me with his phone (with an exception of Thursdays; I paint with Kidsart's adult class, like always). I'm really starting to feel proud of myself, and that's really strange for me to say. I don't have a lot of confidence in myself or in my artwork. I remember Crystal would have to reassure me constantly that I possessed some talent and skill whenever I was upset about it. I think I'm slowly starting to believe her. I don't feel silly when I tell people that I'm an artist anymore. I'm trying to build up my portfolio, so that it is the finest representation of who I am, as an artist. It feels great to replace those silly pencil portraits and still life's that no longer read me. It feels even better to finally know and understand what direction I want to go with my art.
On a completely unrelated and somewhat sad note, my mother is at home today, instead of at work. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells constantly. When I left my room for one second to grab a bite to eat, she went ballistic about my hair (I re-shaved it down to a '2'). It hurt me a little more than I'd want to admit, because just two weeks ago, we had a an intense family fight and make-up. And the biggest thing we fought about was the fact that I was not the daughter she had intended on having. She couldn't get over the fact that I am someone with radical ideas and opinions, and won't hesitate on voicing them. The lifestyle in which I choose to live in is far too bizarre for her conservative ways, and she thinks my lack of normality with my appearance hinders not only my relationship with friends, family, and strangers, but also everything that I do.
Mom, when I was young, you taught me that I should never judge someone for how they look. You taught me that as long as I am happy with who I am, no one else should matter. You also told me that no matter what I do, you'd support me. It kills me inside to see what a liar you are. Please get over this. If you ever want this to be fixed, you need to. I can't pretend to be someone I'm not, just for you.
mkp.
