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| The First Straw: I had a show due and I was behind schedule, so I gave up the bike. I figured , you know, it's temporary, no big deal...never knowing how essential it was to my sanity and love, not love for anything...just love, just having it. |
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| It came quickly after that. I had the show but within a month...I saw my stalker near my gallery. My other gallery guy OD'd. I got an email from an old - and apparently pissed - girlfriend telling me my paintings sucked and were soulless... |
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| ...my brother was diagnosed with cancer, again. My father went into the hospital... |
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| ...one night on my way to a meeting I was suddenly started sweating like a pig to slaughter, right around the same time I discovered a lump in my groin. No insurance, I couldn't find a doctor willing to see me. There was more, other little things that mattered, other people leaving, other changes, all things that got sucked into the accidental vortex of too much. |
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| Little Bored Fauntleroy went down...HARD BABY! |
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| I was a pretty little picture indeed: I was drinking too much, sleeping too little, sweating profusely all the time. Anxiety and panic attacks, irritable bowels, social anxiety, my heart was beating out of my chest, always. I went nowhere, talked to no one. I was suddenly scared shitless of everyone, everything; of out there. |
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| I couldn't ride, my work wasn't going well...everything was broken. |
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| OUT THERE, once a place I was madly in love with, once the greatest place on earth... |
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| Once, but not anymore. |