Let’s start from the beginning…
I was a part-time hairstylist, full time architectural intern, grad student, and volunteer. I was determined in accomplishing my goals and had a plan set in motion for what I wanted in life. I avoided distractions that could possibly slow me down. Boy, did God have other plans for me!
January 20th, 2017 is the day that changed my life. There are things about that morning that I could never shake. It happened all too fast and much too slow. I don’t even know if I had enough time to be afraid. I remember trying to make logical decisions in order to avoid this collision. Once I realized what was going to happen, it happened.
I was walking into work like I had every other workday. I began crossing the parking lot towards the office building. Even with all of the safety precautions, nothing could stop this disaster. The SUV turned and approached me quite rapidly without slowing down. It crashed right into me.
It’s quite a blessing that human nature does us a favor by blocking out traumatic events in our most vulnerable state. I remember it in flashes; her vehicle acting as a catapult, my body as the object. The moment following was one of the scariest as I woke up on the ground and thought, “Why did this person try to kill me?”
That’s when everything changed. A few horrific seconds took away all things according to my “timeline”. My aspirations had to be put on hold and I fell into despair. I lost my clients, opportunities at work, course completions, and even relationships. I lost my strength and independence. I lost hope. I lost a sense of purpose. The pain was debilitating. The physical weakness crushed my spirit. I had zero strength and stamina and my entire body was too damaged to do the things I used to do. I thought of taking up painting to pass the time. With most forms of painting, a brush is required but I couldn’t grip a paintbrush to use it well enough.
Finally, I came across an artist that created large scale fluid artwork. I saw that she used bigger tools, things that didn’t require much grip or “finger power”. I had no idea what she was doing or using or how she did any of it. But I knew that I had to try this!! And so I did. I made gigantic messes, one after another. I used the wrong materials, the wrong canvases, the wrong space, the wrong everything. But I LOVED IT!!! It was a form of release!
Since that day, I found something magical. I found a healing power in making. Physically, painting is a torture to my body. Mentally, it is absolutely euphoric! I've become obsessed with making; with experimenting; with creating an even bigger mess than the mess I was dealt.
Painting brought back a sense of purpose in my life.
God saved my life all over again the day that I realized painting is the medicine for my mind.
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