November 20, 2015
Sometimes, Shut the fuck up!
Or, as my grandmother would have put it,
"Know when to quit."
Having grown up gay in a small town, I was filled with a sense of standing my ground and justifying my position on everything, pretty much all of the time. While I believe that that mentality served it's purpose at the time, I've also grown up. And in growing up, I've learned something that apparently many people have not, when to shut the fuck up! So for those of you who have missed out, or just ignored the memo, here's a comprehensive list. (I will continue to update it throughout the year.)
When to shut the fuck up:
When you are talking to an idiot, about anything.
This is a person who is simply unaware, and either through genetic disposition or laziness will continue to remain unaware. They are usually not mean, just dumb. To be clear, this is different from someone who chooses to be ignorant, they appear later in this list.
When your grandmother asks how your date went.
If you're like me, you're a pretty open person in general. It can be difficult, at times, to figure out when to be not-so-open. This is one of those times. Grandma doesn't want to know that his cock is pierced. At least not usually. If she does, then Rock On grandma!
When your boss asks if you have any big plans for the weekend.
He probably just wants you to pick up an extra shift. Have fun with this one, just don't over-share. Your boss does not want to know how excited you are to try ecstasy with your bestie.
When the officer asks if you've been drinking.
He already knows the answer. He doesn't need your help.
When someone yells at you for wishing them a "Happy Holidays."
It's not even worth it. This person is a special kind of asshole who is unable to see that you were offering a kind word to them, they only see you, specifically and literally, taking a shit on the baby jesus. That's what they actually see. These people are a scary kind of crazy. It's ok though, the jew behind them in line will totally appreciate your kind word. Jews are almost always nice, as a rule.
When that girl who dropped out of high school posts a picture of her and her 5th baby waiting in line for food stamps, with the caption "#singleladies #babymama #datassdoe #thuglyfe".
I know, I know, I KNOW! Believe me, I get it, I totally understand why you want to say (or more likely type/post/re-post) something about this, but trust me people like that travel in packs, and she's probably friends with like 35 other people who are living on the system, and as long as they are given the bare minimum for survival (and enough to buy weed) they will never achieve anything more. Just walk away. With any luck one of her offspring will sure cancer or something.
When the redneck who lives next door tries to explain to you why the confederate flag is a symbol of freedom, and American Pride.
Give the poor guy a break and don't make him mad, he's probably got several guns. Also, he's probably dyslexic, he just got the white and black parts of his history text book switched around.
When your significant other asks you to do the dishes, but you'd rather take a nap.
Just do the dishes. chances are you can avoid hours of nasty passive-aggressive fighting, and you can always nap after they're done.
When to NOT shut the fuck up:
When you think a loved one might have a drug of alcohol problem.
Just be creative in how you handle the situation, like offer to take your buddy to a really great bar, then drop him off at an AA meeting. Or switch out your friend's cocaine with cornstarch. Sure, they might get pissed, but after at least you'll have some of that cool goo your used to make in science class. Plus I'm pretty sure you can't OD on cornstarch, but don't quote me.
When a friend asks you to come to their house for a "gathering of like-minded individuals" to talk about a good or service that has "changed their life."
This is an invitation to some bullshit pyramid scheme. Go if you want to, but feel free to fuck with them about this. Chances are they have already bought in, and only now realize how dumb they are. (NOTE: This does not apply if the gathering they are talking about is a sex toy party, ALWAYS go to those!)
When someone without children tries to give you advice on how to raise your kid, based on the fact that they own a dog/cat.
Slap this person in the face, then berate them as you see fit. They clearly know nothing of the living horror that is raising a child (as seen from the outside). This person is likely trying to appease their girlfriend/boyfriend by showing them how responsible they are by "raising" an animal. If this is a single person, then they are probably a crazy cat lady, and you should just run. Men can be crazy cat ladies. (NOTE: If the person names their animal a person name, like Jeffrey or Carl, you're dealing with the first kind. If they name their animal something majestic, like Princess Chi-Wow-Wow or Dave Meow-thews, you're dealing with the second.)
When someone gets all high and mighty about working in their field of study just a few years after college, while you are working some bullshit job just to pay the bills.
Punch this person. Punch them hard, then explain to them in excruciating detail how their severe lack of student loan debt classifies them as un-American, and the fact that their uncle knew a guy who gave them their entry level job is the only reason they got in the door in the first place. Also explain how your personal projects are the life blood that keeps you If this person also happens to be one of those assholes who always talks about how great they are, just light them on fire, and run. The cloud of arrogance that's been building up in their head and ass is highly flammable. You might want to selfie in front of the ensuing fire-ball for proof that you know what it looks like when a star collapses. #sorrynotsorry.
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
A Memoir Kinda pt 2
I won't be silenced, but I don't need to lead the parade.
I came out of the closet when I was 14 years old. And no one was surprised. Not a single soul! What the fuck!? I had held in this "secret" for a couple of excruciating years, and I finally ge tup the nerve to tell my parents, and all they could say was "Honey, do you honestly think we didn't know that already?" *jaw hits the floor*. It's really funny to think back on it now (15 years later) but at the time I was kinda pissed. Everywhere I looked in the media, in music, in books, throughout history, I saw warning signs that telling people that you're gay might be hazardous to your health, and here I was in south central Pennsylvania, in the first year of a new Millennium, and no one cared? What gives? Shouldn't I get to lead a parade or something? Where were the crowds of other gay men and lesbians waiting to welcome me into the promised land of dance clubs and hot sex and drag queens? Clearly they were not to be found in Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
Although the family situation was really quite painless (my little brother was a bit of a douche for a while, but he got over it), school was a different experience entirely. Coming out in eighth grade might not have been the best plan, but I knew waiting wasn't going to help either. So one morning before school, I took a deep breath and decided. I decided that from that day on I would not lie if someone asked me if I was gay. Who knows, maybe they won't even ask today, right? About fifteen minutes into the school day some uppity bitch made a snarky comment about my jewelry and followed it up with "I mean, are you gay?" So I responded "Yes, I am." I slammed my locker, and walked away feeling terrified and triumphant, and kinda like I might throw up. Later that day, at lunch, I was informed that the table I'd always shared with the other guys had been rezoned and was now a "no faggots allowed" table, and that I was no longer welcome. I spent several weeks sitting with the kids who had severe handicaps and learning disabilities, because they clearly didn't mind sitting with a freak.
Little changed that last year of middle school, some friends came around, others stood steadfast in their newfound homophobia. High school served as a culture shock for most of us, so no one was looking too closely at the previous year's pariah. And I discovered the drama kids. We obviously got along just perfectly! As we made our way through high school there were obviously a bunch of ignorant asshats who felt it was their mission to be as mean as they could to anyone different from themselves, but luckily most people realized that that was just stupid. I founded a GSA (Gay-straight Alliance) club in school, and we were the first in a public school in all of Pennsylvania. For that I was awarded a threat of protest from the Westborough Baptist Church (Yes, the crazy fundamentalist Christians from Kansas, of "God Hates Fags" fame) and the admiration of many of my classmates who took a stance against intolerance. Although the WBC never actually came to protest, much to my chagrin, the threat alone unified much of the student body, and earned the club validation in the eyes of the school administration. I'm happy to say that the club still meets regularly as of this writing (12 years later). It was always my hope that the club would serve as a reminder to any young gay, lesbian, bi, trans, questioning, or general outcast kids that trek through the halls of my Alma mater, that they are not along, and that there is a whole community out there in the world who wants to see them succeed.
Looking back on it, the only comment that kinda upset me when I came out was what my grandmother said. She told me " just be you, don't make it all about being gay. Be Stewart, not Gay Stewart." At the time, that stung. Back then I felt like I was always in a battle to validate who I was. I needed to bring to light the issues affecting the LGBT community, because no one else would. But, I've come to understand the wisdom in her words, and I long for the day when labels won't be necessary. As a practical person, I acknowledge the need for leaders within all communities, and with that comes a certain amount of self awareness and identification. I don't mind wearing the label, but these days it's much less of a large waving banner, and much more of a small name tag. I've made peace with not being the one to lead the parade anymore. The younger generation has more energy for that sort of thing, anyway!
I've learned that in life there will always be a "no faggots allowed" table, but that's not where I want to sit anymore. I sit with anyone who chooses to engage with the things that are different from what they know, the people who want to learn about different ways of life, the people who have decided to focus on what makes us alike, instead of what separates us. After all, we're all human, we're all deserving of love and kindness and respect... except those homophobic dicks. Fuck those guys!
I came out of the closet when I was 14 years old. And no one was surprised. Not a single soul! What the fuck!? I had held in this "secret" for a couple of excruciating years, and I finally ge tup the nerve to tell my parents, and all they could say was "Honey, do you honestly think we didn't know that already?" *jaw hits the floor*. It's really funny to think back on it now (15 years later) but at the time I was kinda pissed. Everywhere I looked in the media, in music, in books, throughout history, I saw warning signs that telling people that you're gay might be hazardous to your health, and here I was in south central Pennsylvania, in the first year of a new Millennium, and no one cared? What gives? Shouldn't I get to lead a parade or something? Where were the crowds of other gay men and lesbians waiting to welcome me into the promised land of dance clubs and hot sex and drag queens? Clearly they were not to be found in Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
Although the family situation was really quite painless (my little brother was a bit of a douche for a while, but he got over it), school was a different experience entirely. Coming out in eighth grade might not have been the best plan, but I knew waiting wasn't going to help either. So one morning before school, I took a deep breath and decided. I decided that from that day on I would not lie if someone asked me if I was gay. Who knows, maybe they won't even ask today, right? About fifteen minutes into the school day some uppity bitch made a snarky comment about my jewelry and followed it up with "I mean, are you gay?" So I responded "Yes, I am." I slammed my locker, and walked away feeling terrified and triumphant, and kinda like I might throw up. Later that day, at lunch, I was informed that the table I'd always shared with the other guys had been rezoned and was now a "no faggots allowed" table, and that I was no longer welcome. I spent several weeks sitting with the kids who had severe handicaps and learning disabilities, because they clearly didn't mind sitting with a freak.
Little changed that last year of middle school, some friends came around, others stood steadfast in their newfound homophobia. High school served as a culture shock for most of us, so no one was looking too closely at the previous year's pariah. And I discovered the drama kids. We obviously got along just perfectly! As we made our way through high school there were obviously a bunch of ignorant asshats who felt it was their mission to be as mean as they could to anyone different from themselves, but luckily most people realized that that was just stupid. I founded a GSA (Gay-straight Alliance) club in school, and we were the first in a public school in all of Pennsylvania. For that I was awarded a threat of protest from the Westborough Baptist Church (Yes, the crazy fundamentalist Christians from Kansas, of "God Hates Fags" fame) and the admiration of many of my classmates who took a stance against intolerance. Although the WBC never actually came to protest, much to my chagrin, the threat alone unified much of the student body, and earned the club validation in the eyes of the school administration. I'm happy to say that the club still meets regularly as of this writing (12 years later). It was always my hope that the club would serve as a reminder to any young gay, lesbian, bi, trans, questioning, or general outcast kids that trek through the halls of my Alma mater, that they are not along, and that there is a whole community out there in the world who wants to see them succeed.
Looking back on it, the only comment that kinda upset me when I came out was what my grandmother said. She told me " just be you, don't make it all about being gay. Be Stewart, not Gay Stewart." At the time, that stung. Back then I felt like I was always in a battle to validate who I was. I needed to bring to light the issues affecting the LGBT community, because no one else would. But, I've come to understand the wisdom in her words, and I long for the day when labels won't be necessary. As a practical person, I acknowledge the need for leaders within all communities, and with that comes a certain amount of self awareness and identification. I don't mind wearing the label, but these days it's much less of a large waving banner, and much more of a small name tag. I've made peace with not being the one to lead the parade anymore. The younger generation has more energy for that sort of thing, anyway!
I've learned that in life there will always be a "no faggots allowed" table, but that's not where I want to sit anymore. I sit with anyone who chooses to engage with the things that are different from what they know, the people who want to learn about different ways of life, the people who have decided to focus on what makes us alike, instead of what separates us. After all, we're all human, we're all deserving of love and kindness and respect... except those homophobic dicks. Fuck those guys!
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
A memoir, kinda.....
So I planned to begin a daily journal on my birthday, and I am already behind. The plan? To write one thing I've learned in life, each day. Then When I turn 30, I will have a collection of 365 things I've learned by 30. I think it will maybe be printed in a formal book. So, here goes my catch up!
November 18, 2015
"Candy is dandy, but Liquor is quicker... and will aggravate your dormant alcoholism."
I took my last drink of alcohol probably around September 15 or 16, 2012. I say probably because that was the tail end of a several month-long bender which saw me drinking until I blacked-out 4 or 5 nights a week, and quite frankly I can't remember. What I do remember is that September 22 of that year is when my (still) boyfriend Will came over to my parents' house (where I lived at the time) and talked to me (after ignoring me, justifiably, for about a week) and laid down the law. He told me that he could no longer watch me destroy myself, and that I had a decision to make. Him, or the alcohol.
Let me give you a little background on me. I'm a Scorpio, and I don't like being told what to do. Ever. I'm also a first born, and was raised to be fairly independent. So, in any other circumstance, I would have told him to fuck off, and manipulated the situation so that I looked like the victim of a mean boyfriend who was trying to control me. But that would have all been bullshit. Complete and total nonsense. I knew I was in a bad place. I knew I'd been there for a while, and I had no idea how to get out. I knew that when I looked in the mirror (which I do often, because I'm vain) I had no idea who was looking back at me. I don't think anything had changed physically, but my eyes looked dead to me. I stared into a vacant expression for the first time in my life, and if there's one thing that I am not, it's vacant. I've got opinions about my opinions, and favorite favorites, so seeing this shell of a human was terrifying. I can honestly say that I had no idea what the answer to fixing my situation would be, but I knew that there wasn't anything at the bottom of any bottle what was helping me. So I quit. I made the decision to keep my boyfriend, and ditch the booze. I had no idea how amazing the journey would be then. I'm so grateful to have Will by my side, along with the love and support of my family and friends. I've been sober for over three years now, and it's hard to remember why I wanted to lose myself back then. Most days it's hard to remember, but every once in a while I come across some asshole at work, or something genuinely tragic happens, or I am faced with a situation that makes me feel insecure, and I remember. I remember feeling overwhelmed by my emotions, and buying into the delusion that I was in control and that I felt I was losing control, and thinking that drinking it all away made a lot of sense. And it did. Alcohol absolutely worked. It took away all of my pain and filled me with a warmth that I will probably always miss a little bit. Alcohol helped me forget my worries, until it didn't. And it never did again.
Losing the one thing that worked meant that I needed to find a new way of going about this problem (life) and getting a handle on my life again. I knew that no other drug was going to fix it. I'd never really been one for drugs, no judgement, they were just never my thing. Alcohol was my thing, then it wasn't. So, I figured I'd replace a negative behavior with a good one. It seemed like a good idea, at first. I spent less time at the bar and more time with my Xbox. I know some people don't see video games as much of a positive, but I've always been drawn to games that engage me creatively and intellectually, so I think they can be just fine! I started throwing myself into gaming, and I quickly saw why this wasn't going to work. One of the most important aspects of my life has been my need for social interaction. And although drinking myself into oblivion was pretty counterintuitive, sitting with friends at the bar did give me the social connection that I longed for. So, with the help of one of my lovely lady friends (who also happened to be the best bartender I've ever known) I set aside a day or two a week to go back to the bar, but sober this time. I knew I'd need help with this, so I asked her, Jody, to help me with my transition by making up some "fancy fizzy fruity" drinks, so I could still feel a part of the action, without the nasty blacking out part. Holy shit, did she deliver! I had seltzer and cranberry with a little lime, ginger ale and grenadine, cherry soda (with actual cherries!), and even pineapple and lemon in tonic water! What a fantastic bevy of beverages she made for me! And I was still able to see my friends.
It was not long, however, before I realized that very few of these people were even tolerable drunk, and most of them annoyed the shit out of me when I was sober! I also discovered that many of the people who populated that particular barroom were probably just as miserable as I was, not all of them mind you, but many. The only difference I could see was that the alcohol still did something positive for them. Sometimes. I quickly learned that only a handful of the people I knew had any respect for my declaration that I needed to remain sober, and quite a few people responded to that declaration by offering to "fix it" and get me a drink. So, after several months of sober bar evenings, and many many hours of video games, I began to get really restless and irritable. I had removed the alcohol from my life, but somehow I was still a pretty nasty person (Will can will tell you that in fact, I had become even more difficult to be around). I couldn't figure out what the hell was going on! Wasn't I doing better?
Then one day, while out shopping, I casually made mention of the fact that I was just about to hit seven months sober when a friend overheard me and asked what had led to the decision. After bringing her up to speed, she told me that she'd been sober for over 4 years, and that if I ever wanted to go to an AA meeting and see what it was all about, to let her know and she'd go with me. "AA? Is that really still a thing?" I remember thinking to myself. I figured I'd give it a try. I'm a pretty open person, and I'd try just about anything once, so why not? She took me to my first meeting, and I've attended religiously ever since. I won't "preach the good word" of AA here, but if you or a loved one feels you may need help, please feel free to contact me and I'll gladly share more details of my experience of the program and the community that makes up AA. I really can't speak highly enough of it. It changed my life.
So, after three years of living without alcohol in my life, I have learned this... some people can sweet talk their way through their lives, some have to drag others through their garbage, but at the end of the day we all have lessons to learn in the time that we are given. Personally, I needed to crawl through the muck for a while before I was ready to start over. And I do believe that I have started over. In many very real ways, the old Stewart died passed out drunk on the bathroom floor of that bar. I mourn him sometimes, but he knew what he was doing to himself, and he deserved every bit of pain and torture that he got, because if it weren't for the suffering, depression, humiliation, and self-loathing that he experienced, I wouldn't be here today. So today, I'll stick with the candy.
November 18, 2015
"Candy is dandy, but Liquor is quicker... and will aggravate your dormant alcoholism."
I took my last drink of alcohol probably around September 15 or 16, 2012. I say probably because that was the tail end of a several month-long bender which saw me drinking until I blacked-out 4 or 5 nights a week, and quite frankly I can't remember. What I do remember is that September 22 of that year is when my (still) boyfriend Will came over to my parents' house (where I lived at the time) and talked to me (after ignoring me, justifiably, for about a week) and laid down the law. He told me that he could no longer watch me destroy myself, and that I had a decision to make. Him, or the alcohol.
Let me give you a little background on me. I'm a Scorpio, and I don't like being told what to do. Ever. I'm also a first born, and was raised to be fairly independent. So, in any other circumstance, I would have told him to fuck off, and manipulated the situation so that I looked like the victim of a mean boyfriend who was trying to control me. But that would have all been bullshit. Complete and total nonsense. I knew I was in a bad place. I knew I'd been there for a while, and I had no idea how to get out. I knew that when I looked in the mirror (which I do often, because I'm vain) I had no idea who was looking back at me. I don't think anything had changed physically, but my eyes looked dead to me. I stared into a vacant expression for the first time in my life, and if there's one thing that I am not, it's vacant. I've got opinions about my opinions, and favorite favorites, so seeing this shell of a human was terrifying. I can honestly say that I had no idea what the answer to fixing my situation would be, but I knew that there wasn't anything at the bottom of any bottle what was helping me. So I quit. I made the decision to keep my boyfriend, and ditch the booze. I had no idea how amazing the journey would be then. I'm so grateful to have Will by my side, along with the love and support of my family and friends. I've been sober for over three years now, and it's hard to remember why I wanted to lose myself back then. Most days it's hard to remember, but every once in a while I come across some asshole at work, or something genuinely tragic happens, or I am faced with a situation that makes me feel insecure, and I remember. I remember feeling overwhelmed by my emotions, and buying into the delusion that I was in control and that I felt I was losing control, and thinking that drinking it all away made a lot of sense. And it did. Alcohol absolutely worked. It took away all of my pain and filled me with a warmth that I will probably always miss a little bit. Alcohol helped me forget my worries, until it didn't. And it never did again.
Losing the one thing that worked meant that I needed to find a new way of going about this problem (life) and getting a handle on my life again. I knew that no other drug was going to fix it. I'd never really been one for drugs, no judgement, they were just never my thing. Alcohol was my thing, then it wasn't. So, I figured I'd replace a negative behavior with a good one. It seemed like a good idea, at first. I spent less time at the bar and more time with my Xbox. I know some people don't see video games as much of a positive, but I've always been drawn to games that engage me creatively and intellectually, so I think they can be just fine! I started throwing myself into gaming, and I quickly saw why this wasn't going to work. One of the most important aspects of my life has been my need for social interaction. And although drinking myself into oblivion was pretty counterintuitive, sitting with friends at the bar did give me the social connection that I longed for. So, with the help of one of my lovely lady friends (who also happened to be the best bartender I've ever known) I set aside a day or two a week to go back to the bar, but sober this time. I knew I'd need help with this, so I asked her, Jody, to help me with my transition by making up some "fancy fizzy fruity" drinks, so I could still feel a part of the action, without the nasty blacking out part. Holy shit, did she deliver! I had seltzer and cranberry with a little lime, ginger ale and grenadine, cherry soda (with actual cherries!), and even pineapple and lemon in tonic water! What a fantastic bevy of beverages she made for me! And I was still able to see my friends.
It was not long, however, before I realized that very few of these people were even tolerable drunk, and most of them annoyed the shit out of me when I was sober! I also discovered that many of the people who populated that particular barroom were probably just as miserable as I was, not all of them mind you, but many. The only difference I could see was that the alcohol still did something positive for them. Sometimes. I quickly learned that only a handful of the people I knew had any respect for my declaration that I needed to remain sober, and quite a few people responded to that declaration by offering to "fix it" and get me a drink. So, after several months of sober bar evenings, and many many hours of video games, I began to get really restless and irritable. I had removed the alcohol from my life, but somehow I was still a pretty nasty person (Will can will tell you that in fact, I had become even more difficult to be around). I couldn't figure out what the hell was going on! Wasn't I doing better?
Then one day, while out shopping, I casually made mention of the fact that I was just about to hit seven months sober when a friend overheard me and asked what had led to the decision. After bringing her up to speed, she told me that she'd been sober for over 4 years, and that if I ever wanted to go to an AA meeting and see what it was all about, to let her know and she'd go with me. "AA? Is that really still a thing?" I remember thinking to myself. I figured I'd give it a try. I'm a pretty open person, and I'd try just about anything once, so why not? She took me to my first meeting, and I've attended religiously ever since. I won't "preach the good word" of AA here, but if you or a loved one feels you may need help, please feel free to contact me and I'll gladly share more details of my experience of the program and the community that makes up AA. I really can't speak highly enough of it. It changed my life.
So, after three years of living without alcohol in my life, I have learned this... some people can sweet talk their way through their lives, some have to drag others through their garbage, but at the end of the day we all have lessons to learn in the time that we are given. Personally, I needed to crawl through the muck for a while before I was ready to start over. And I do believe that I have started over. In many very real ways, the old Stewart died passed out drunk on the bathroom floor of that bar. I mourn him sometimes, but he knew what he was doing to himself, and he deserved every bit of pain and torture that he got, because if it weren't for the suffering, depression, humiliation, and self-loathing that he experienced, I wouldn't be here today. So today, I'll stick with the candy.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
GODS & MONSTERS Update
GODS & MONSTERS Opening Reception - Friday, March 6, 2015
Andrew, Stewart, & Nicole
Thank you so much to everyone who came out and showed their support! Thanks to my family and friends who were able to share this special night with me, either in person or in spirit! As promised, below are the three pieces that were accepted into the show, the entire exhibition will be on display at The Metropolis Art Collective, at 17 W. Main Street, Mechanicsburg PA for the next two months! I'd like to give a special thanks to my dear lady friends in 40cent, who although most of them could not be with me in person, sent in special video messages for me, wishing me luck, and to Maureen for compiling them into a fantastic special video montage! Thank you ladies! I love you all!
-Stewart
The Fall of The Archangel Lucifer
Collage #3
Lilith Emerges from the Shadows
Thanks for taking the time to check out this post/blog, and I hope you stop by again regularly to see some of my new work. Thanks again to everyone who made this such a wonderful experience!
Thursday, March 5, 2015
GODS & MONSTERS
Hey there,
So, tonight I will be showing some new work (3 pieces) in a group show entitled Gods & Monsters at the Metropolis Art Collective in Mechanicsburg! I am so thrilled to be a part of this show, and I look forward to more opportunities like this. This will be the first time that my work has been exhibited in about 6 years, and I hope I don't disappoint. I will post the new pieces here after the show has opened, but I do hope you all have the chance to go see the actual printed photos, they look so much better in real life, as opposed to illuminated pixels. The show will hang for about two months. The address for the gallery is 17 W. Main St. Mechanicsburg PA.
In other news, I just recently started sending out my Step 9 amends "letters"(emails, facebook messages) and I've gotta say, stress and anxiety are running pretty high. I did get a few responses back, both were positive. They give me hope that maybe some of the others wont be as gut-wrenching as I am anticipating. I totally understand that no matter what their reactions, I deserve to hear it all. I don't get a pass just because I'm living properly now. I've done damage, and those that I've heard have all the right in the world to express that to me, if they so choose. I must say that I'm grateful for the calming and peaceful nature of the Virgo full moon! Thank the stars for some calm for once. I wish you all a lovely and inspiring weekend!
-Stewart
So, tonight I will be showing some new work (3 pieces) in a group show entitled Gods & Monsters at the Metropolis Art Collective in Mechanicsburg! I am so thrilled to be a part of this show, and I look forward to more opportunities like this. This will be the first time that my work has been exhibited in about 6 years, and I hope I don't disappoint. I will post the new pieces here after the show has opened, but I do hope you all have the chance to go see the actual printed photos, they look so much better in real life, as opposed to illuminated pixels. The show will hang for about two months. The address for the gallery is 17 W. Main St. Mechanicsburg PA.
In other news, I just recently started sending out my Step 9 amends "letters"(emails, facebook messages) and I've gotta say, stress and anxiety are running pretty high. I did get a few responses back, both were positive. They give me hope that maybe some of the others wont be as gut-wrenching as I am anticipating. I totally understand that no matter what their reactions, I deserve to hear it all. I don't get a pass just because I'm living properly now. I've done damage, and those that I've heard have all the right in the world to express that to me, if they so choose. I must say that I'm grateful for the calming and peaceful nature of the Virgo full moon! Thank the stars for some calm for once. I wish you all a lovely and inspiring weekend!
-Stewart
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)