#asperations

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

a large loft apartment/artist studio, like the whole top of a building all to myself. its art deco with a lot of big green glass windows. i have a big dog, and possibly a couple of roommates/interns/live-in partner(s). once or twice a year half of the room becomes a gallery space for all of our work.

a camper/tiny home, preferably made out of a recycled short bus or ambulance. that I deck out myself. a small dog, and the open road. we go to small towns and bring in art supplies and teaching tools for underprivileged youth.  and teach parents about LGBTQ+ issues. 

a pole barn that I slowly turn into a living and workspace as I get art jobs.  it sits on a few achers. a couple of goats and dogs, I grow my own food and the only bills I pay are insurance, wifi, and taxes. me and my wife own a shop in town selling our art and homemade preserves

Being there, and consistency is fundamental to your growth. When people count on you, it is a good feeling. And yet, a little unpredictability is always a good thing. Unpredictability allows you to be you.

If you are too predictable, people start to feel that they know you. When they start to become complacent in knowing you, some may think they own you. Others begin to believe that they know…