Depression is such a huge topic. Such an epic battle that I want to give it respect but at the same time want to disrespect the fuck out of it.
It's here, Winter. Every year I take the necessary steps for battle. Sign up for yoga. Eat smart. Take meds. Walk. Vitamin D. Make art. Take baths, drink tea, etc, etc. But this depression, MY depression creeps in no matter what. No matter how much armor I wear, it has enough armor to battle back. Depression makes me doubt my existence. Am I worth being here? The answer, because of this illness, is NO. I am not worth anything. Try as I might, on a daily basis, I truly, deeply cannot convince myself otherwise.
It's a battle I know is worth fighting. I appreciate life. The smallest leaf to the biggest leap - I believe it's all worth it. I fight to respect my existence and adore everything else that exists. I still have to find my place in all of it.
Sometimes the chemicals in my brain make it difficult to love. Love life, love people, love myself. It's as if my true self gets hijacked by evil, and there is nothing to discourage this being. It is simply bigger and stronger than I am.
So this painting, this portrait, is about the burden and mystery of depression. Depression is not necessarily seen but felt very deeply on intense levels. Depression is "unseen" in so many ways.
Shamed, hidden, mysterious, unsolvable and dismissable.
Welcome. Here is where we can hang out casually. I can show you new work, talk about my process, blah, blah, blah. You can can say nice things!