Thirty-Eighth…

Numbers

They mean something…

Whether it’s frequencies, dates, ages, or keeping count of some type of quantifiable variable, numbers are all around us.

And they ALL have meaning.

I don’t know if understand this age. I guess I’ve only been this age for a couple weeks, so I’m a little “new”.

And to what standard are we measuring?

Like, what “does” it “mean” to be 38?

11 energy
8 energy
Creative energy
Boss energy

I spent last year in an introspective year.
A “7” personal year
Though, I put myself out there to vend shows, attended art walks, and made more content…behind the scenes, during the in betweens… I spend time learning, reading, trying new things, experimenting… grieving…

So how do we put this all together?

And while I feel like spending 9 years in college, graduating without guidance or a clue on how to begin making enough to cover my ass, makes me feel like I’m behind…

I can’t help but also think that this is EXACTLY where I’m supposed to be.

I’m grateful.
I don’t know what’s in store for me… for my career.. whether or not London has kids.. but I know that I’m going to constantly keep building and working towards the things I know I want.

I sacrificed a lot just to be able to survive.
And I kept my eye on the prize.
Struggling to keep an apartment..
At some point having the worst roommates…
Living in areas with 4 excessively barking dogs and a fuck ton of spiders…
Sleeping in my car…
Couch bouncing…
Through it all… I showed up to class.
I showed up to work.
I fucking showed up.

And while life may not be what I thought it was going to be… especially having parents who worked at the studios…
I’m happy I’ve gotten as far as I have.

I survived death.
I survived the hollow.
The depths of nothing.
I survived misjudgments…stereotypes… assumptions… prejudice.. harassment.. abuse… heartbreak..

I survived being completely alone for 7 years.

I have every fucking reason to give up.
I have every fucking reason.. to settle…
But how boring would that be?

I feel like there is this unwritten rule of maturity.. that you’re “supposed” to have at this age..
Like…this is around the time people stop dreaming..

But I can’t.

Am I confusing this with a midlife crisis? Or did I finally get to a point where I COULD do the things I wanted..

I tried when I was younger..
Sure, our little dollars stretched a little farther.. but I was limited.
So limited.
But I showed up.
I supported others.. I encouraged others to live their dreams.. helping some find a way to achieve theirs..

I continued to grow through it all, when I had nothing… I taught myself a lot.

No one had the answers I needed for myself.

So I figured it out… and I’m always going to continue to figure it out.

I don’t have all the answers.
I’m far from perfect…

But as long as I do it and show up..
Make the effort…

And that’s what matters. That’s what makes me feel like there’s something to get up for every day.

I just want to keep creating.

I think some people are afraid of age… I’m just afraid of dying and not having tried my best.

I just don’t want to die with regrets.
Other than that.. I don’t care how old I am.

Some days I act 5, some days 70.. sometimes 16… and I’m still not sure what 38 year olds act like…

I didn’t read that book.

So, cheers to another year of life.