
2022 was the year I got FUCKING BODY SLAMMED.
This was the year I didn't give up.
This was the year I chose to not give up on people.
But a lot gave up on me.
This was the year I got so so soft.
I have felt my chest crack open with grief this year.
The year of...
The year of a thousand forest fires in my heart.
The year of flowers and forgiveness.

This was the year I buried and mourned so many different versions of myself.
This was the year that I came home to myself.
I climbed mountains, put my feet in the Earth, gave up my heart to the ocean again.
I threw up everywhere. Hills. Valleys. Venues. Groom's shoes. I even fell in vomit once, not my own.
I started wearing crop tops. Almost exclusively.
I went to Joshua tree and didn't see a single tarantula.
I lost so much weed on mountaintops this year. I'm still salty about it.
I cried so many times in the Seattle airport.
I cried in the cheesecake factory, in the car, during speeches, during ceremonies, during car rides and really everywhere in between.
The year I cried and thought I might not stop; tiny baptisms over and over.
I learned the power of my own breath. I'm learning it's a constant practice and I still have to remind myself to breathe.
I gave myself an ulcer. Still have it. So that's cool.
I learned how important it is to take care of my body and my mental health, or my body will shut down. My brain will shut down.
I had more panic attacks this year than ever. I learned I might have ADHD or OCD and I'm still waiting on answers.
I learned a whole lot about anxiety and the way it physically manifests.
My body stopped (?) absorbing B12. I've been violently sick most of the year but never really talked much about it.
I should have talked more about it. I learned that even when I think I am being most transparent, I still let the people pleaser in me cover things in sugar and honey.
I learned how powerful setting even simple boundaries is.


I didn't do everything I wanted to this year.
I left so many texts and emails unanswered. I didn't mean to.
I felt crushing guilt this year for my inability to keep up.
I felt crushing failure this year for every missed connection, every late gallery, every missed phone call.
I felt totally inadequate.
I didn't spend enough time with my family or my friends. This year I missed people a lot.
This was the first year I thought honestly about quitting. This was the first year I fell out of touch with my art.
This was the year of mega doubt.
This was the year that made me realize not everyone will get my art, or value it.
That's ok. Really.
This year I came out as queer. It doesn't really change who I am as a human but it feels so great to say it.
I found solace in clients turned friends, who saturated me with love and support.
I found great joy this year.
Despite anything that might have tried to rob me of it
Despite it all
Joy
You were a vibe, 2022, but not my vibe. Sucks to suck, see you never again.
Looking forward to another 365 days of being a whole ass adventure.
Love ya'll to the moon and back again. *karate kick*

