This post is about all those who have struggled in their youth. It seems there was a time when this was a very common experience and clandestine choices are what raised us. I believe the term “At Risk” was the clinical term. During the 90’s nightclubs such as the Limelight were filled with teens from many walks of life with one commonality; the need to escape the pain of domestic dysfunction. We took drugs by the fistful and danced our sorrows away. It became our family. We informed our parents, if they cared, that we were sleeping over a friend’s house and won academy awards for the performance we gave when we returned home on zero hours of sleep. I don’t think any of us understood the realities of the world we had one foot in or the price one pays long term. Some of us made it out and moved on and others weren’t as fortunate.
Life experiences shape you and having lived through the aforementioned leaves you with a brand politely referred to as an edge. We live in a world of judgement and labels and what is all too commonly overlooked is the sheer strength acquired by living.
People who have come out the other end have learned the art of reinvention. Humans have an aptitude for plasticity and nothing manifests this more than the ability to transform heartache into creativity. The scars a survivor bears don’t only lie on the surface, they are deep waters that do not run still. Our trauma kits are equipped with understanding, forgiveness, self awareness, and patience to never lose the appreciation for what is beautiful in life.
“Don’t Blame Me”, 40” x 34”, Oil on linen