A good friend said to me:

 

“perhaps….it’s this little bit of damage that makes you so creative and talented.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

--How could I even begin to understand what emotions were? Love?  Pain? Joy? Loneliness? I was, in time, just 5 years old. But that didn't prevent me from obsessing over the love that my mother failed to deliver. The joy my father had truncated. At just 5 years old my mother left my brother and me. Abandoned. Discarded like an old pair of shoes. She wouldn't return for 2 years when she made the decision to kidnap us from school. At least I would no longer have to lie in bed suppressing the desire to go outside and play with my friends at 6:00 on a school night. I would no longer have to suppress the pain of wanting my emotions to goaway. The longing for my mother. My father wasn't deliberately punishing me. It was my bedtime. 6:00 was my bedtime. Explain the laughter and screams of that 7 year olds’ friends who were able to play outside. The 7 year old who lie in bed for hours wanting nothing more than the hurt and pain to just go away.

 

In time those prayers found a cure for the hurt and the pain. They also found a cure for the love and even happiness. And that is what I know. And that's what I believed.

 

My adult life would replay a series of unfortunate circumstances which couldn't have delivered punishment to my heart any harder. Feelings and beliefs of failure. What do you begin to make of aspirations that are consistent on the roads that always dead end? The beauty is I could always build another road. Another dead end. It didn't stop me from building and trying. And it's amazing how each dead end actually brought me back to the start. I didn't see it though. Each idea was better than the last. The holes in my wings didn't allow me to fly. Each prayer of dismissing pain I prayed had actually created more holes. Those emotions I asked to go away were silently gnawing these wings.  And I knew not how to stop them now.

 

The painting: “Everyway Out” deals with my life's struggles caused by my will to banish emotions and the recognition that I need change. True change. A change to actually feel and recognize what was once abused and neglected by my caretakers. A change that attempts to rediscover what I prayed to go away so many years ago. One that will take me away from old dead ends and truly start me on the path that is just that - The Start.