Year 3
I’m interested in that thing that happens where there’s a breaking point for some people and not for others. You go through such hardship, things that are almost impossibly difficult, and there’s no sign that it’s going to get any better, and that’s the point when people quit. But some don’t.
-Robert Redford
You already know I have a thing for quotes. Sometimes I go hunting for them.. other times (like this time) they find me.
ART CAMP turned 3 last Thursday (11/28/19). If you are in the states you might notice that the anniversary also happens to land on Thanksgiving which still kind of baffles me. Did I really launch the “blog that would become a brand/mobile studio” on a major holiday? I did. I kind of love that newbie me didn’t even question if that was a smooth move.. she just knew it had to be done. I planned to do my annual anniversary IG post on the actual day (If you are interested in the evolution of these posts you can find them here: Hello, Year 1, Meet Holly, Year 2) but then didn’t, because what I wanted to say felt bigger than an instagram caption.
The holiday came and I was actually feeling relatively good and then the holiday went and the sadness and grief returned. A one-day social media hiatus turned into 10 days and I still had not written this post. I would type a little and stop. I would attempt to write a lighter version and then delete. So I just threw out the idea of a due-by date and gave myself permission to take all the time it needed. So last night I find myself watching a video of wild mustangs running through the snow on 9,000 acres of rural rescue land in Oregon and something moves me to scroll down to the comment section where someone says something really nice about the amazing work that they do at Sky Dog Sanctuary and I think that’s a really nice thing to say.. I should go look at this nice person’s profile. Click on over and there I find this quote. Waiting for me like a gift. Pulling that “don’t quit” part of me up and out.. and the will to share in a vulnerable and honest and hopefully helpful-to-you way returns. I hope something I say resonates. If not, thank you for reading because I really need to write it.
TRIGGER WARNING: I AM GOING TO TALK ABOUT GRIEF, MENTAL ILLNESS, AND SUICIDE.
On August 31st, 2018, we lost my husband suddenly and tragically. At the age of 35 Paul lost his battle with mental illness and died by suicide. It feels really scary and really important to type those words here, in that way. As a *survivor (*what surviving family and friends are called; I have never attempted suicide) I learned early on that people who die by suicide don’t have a choice. It’s a moment so dark that everything else is blotted out. There is no rationale. It is not a selfish act. It is not cowardly. It’s a moment of pain and darkness so powerful that it simply must be extinguished. The metaphor that is commonly used to describe this moment is a long dark tunnel with one way out. So we don’t use the term committed anymore. Someone in my survivor group described the moment as a “heart attack in the brain” which feels right to me and maybe a really great way to describe suicide to young people who might struggle to understand how or why something like this happens. I hope you never need to borrow it but maybe stick it in your back pocket just in case.
If you are like me you were stunned when Robin Williams died by suicide, and Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade. You couldn’t imagine the suffering that came before the end. You thought about their partners, their kids. You wept just thinking about the unthinkable pain on both sides. I remember Paul saying: I think that option is off the table when you have kids. I struggled with this memory a lot in early grief.
Paul was a wonderful and adored husband, father, brother, son, and friend. If you came to any of our pop-ups in the first two years of ART CAMP you met him. He was the one towing the camper in. He was the guy selling the boxes. Running the glue gun station for 500 tiny airplanes. Greeting you with a smile.. “directing traffic” (his words). The kind of guy who would bring the security guards and parking attendants chocolate bars. He was hard working and FUNNY and inquisitive and kind. He was SO patient.. far more patient than me. He built this website and figured out YouTube and helped set up the tripods for photo and video shoots and ran to the store when I remembered that I forgot to bring (fill in the blank) 5 minutes before people were arriving for an event. When Paul came into my life everything made sense. I knew he was “the one” on our second date. When I would tell him about my dreams he would lean in. When I had another one of my “big ideas” he would research what it would take to execute and send me stats and listings and how-to’s. He loved to sing classic rock songs at the top of his lungs and he made THE BEST soup. He was down for anything and everything. He was my favorite person. My partner. My friend. The yin to my yang and he was suffering with a deadly disease more pervasive than anyone wants to acknowledge or talk about.
Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the United States among people 10-34 (yes I just typed 10) and the fourth-leading cause among people 35-54. Suicide rates in the US have increased by 30% in the past decade. Paul knew he was sick, he was actively seeking treatment and he was (his words) very scared to die. He was taking medication. He was talking about how bad he felt and doing all the things that “everyone” tells us to do and this still happened. I wish I could tell you that his last day alive was spent living his best life but he and I spent the day tag- teaming insurance and out-patient/in-patient treatment center calls. He didn’t appear more depressed than usual. He appeared alert and ready to find the help we all hoped would eventually come. Health care in this country is abysmal. Mental Health Care in this country is criminal. The kind of care one needs when they are so depressed that they could die was not available for us. US = two privileged, educated, middle class, tax paying, medically insured white people living in Los Angeles. One of us a former Marine. If I told you that Paul checked himself into a hospital and was discharged 24 hours later without ever seeing a doctor would you believe me? If I told you that he was in contact with at minimum 5 doctors, 2 Clinical Directors and a “crisis team” in the week leading up to his death, and each one offered nothing more than an Rx prescription, a referral, or a follow up appointment for 4-6 weeks down the road does that stun you? It breaks my heart into a thousand pieces.
You might already know some of this. You might be one of the angels who donated money to the GoFundMe that was set up for the girls and I in the days after we lost Paul. I honestly don’t know how to fix this massive crisis. I just know that change often begins with a decision to speak the truth, so help me God.
I have received a lot of loving, compassionate messages over the past year. Wondering how the girls and I were doing.. being blown away by my ability to keep ART CAMP thriving in spite of it all. Maybe you caught me in a minute where I felt like sharing the truth. Maybe you got a gentler reply “one moment at a time” or “still trudging through the impossible.” Maybe you wanted to reach out but didn’t know what to say? Or you are one of the someones from my online community who notices when the posts stop coming and you decide to share my work when I can’t. Thank you. Thank you for recommending ART CAMP parties to your friends. Thank you for showing up to our community events and brand activations. Thank you for the photo tags and shout-outs. Thank you for buying our boxes and templates. Thank you for sending my girls letters filled with stickers, and surprise packages. Thank you for taking a moment out of your busy day to write an email about how much joy my art projects bring you and your students. Thank you for the funny GIFs, the late night messages. Thank you for praying for us and lighting candles. Thank you for sharing your grief journey with me. Thank you for saying and writing Paul’s name. For remembering that the end of August will always be the anniversary of the worst day ever. Each moment of kindness and generosity— even the ones that maybe went unspoken— are the flickers of light that I have relied upon in the past year.
“You’re still doing it. Even if the steps feel smaller than the full tilt leaps you imagined. I bet you are further along than you were a year ago or two years ago. There’s still time. You’re not asking me for advice but I’m going to share this little nugget that has gotten me through huge life ruptures, perceived delays and doors closing in my face. Just don’t lose sight of the dream. Hold it in your palm every single day. Even on the days when you aren’t actively building stay connected to it and trust.”
I typed these words to a fellow art studio owner a couple days ago and as soon as I read them back I saw the past year in fast forward motion. Year 3 was BRUTIFUL. I wish I could take credit for that oh-so-perfect descriptor but it belongs to the wonderful Glennon Doyle. I once held an unspoken belief that if really bad shit happened to you— like losing your spouse or your father in one of the most sudden, painful, scary ways imaginable— that you would not be placed immediately back into “life on life’s terms” but somehow swathed in universal protection for awhile. Free from bumps and bruises, further heartbreak.. given time to mend. This year ripped the blanket off that belief. I don’t need to spill all the painful lessons and losses that followed losing Paul, but they were plentiful. Did I learn a tremendous amount from the hard stuff? I did.
THINGS I LEARNED THE HARD WAY AND/OR PRACTICED CONSISTENTLY IN YEAR 3:
KEEP GOING - ART CAMP isn’t my first big idea it’s just the one I have pursued relentlessly. No matter what. With everything I’ve got for the past 1,193 days. Hard work pays off.
BLINDERS - any time I start to take my eyes off my own path and start to compare myself to what someone else is doing, I feel horrible. It is hard to create anything of value from that place. When this happens, I think of this great metaphor that Jimmy Iovine shares in the documentary The Defiant Ones:
"When you’re a race horse, the reason they put blinders on these things is because if you look at the horse on the left or the right, you’re going to miss a step. That’s why the horses have blinders on. And that’s what people should have. When you’re running after something, you should not look left or right — what does this person think, what does that person think? No. Just Go.”
- Jimmy Iovine
SPEAK UP - for yourself and others. People “borrow”.. photographs, ideas, clients. Staying quiet or people-pleasing isn’t going to solve anything. Call it out. Respect your boundaries even when others don’t.
GET IT IN WRITING - This one is essential. Don’t ever assume that you are on the same page. Negotiations, verbal agreements, meeting take-aways, phone calls.. re-cap and write it out.
4b - You might need to seek counsel from an attorney.
JUST ASK - This applies anywhere and everywhere. Wondering what you should charge that client? Wondering if they could write a review? Wondering where they bought the art smock? Wondering why the paid invoice has not arrived? Just ask.
KNOW YOUR WORTH - Get clear on your bottom line and stick to it. Charity work and in-kind donations are a big yes. I am talking about: coming up with a rate sheet for you or your biz and sticking to it. Even in the face of “that’s so expensive,” “we have a really tight budget,” or “do I really have to buy the eBook? YES. The answer is yes. If you don’t honor your worth nobody else will. The right people will come. If they are hemming and hawing - they aren’t your people.
IDENTIFY YOUR SAFE PERSON - (if you have more than one of these you are crazy-lucky) Someone who will sit and hold space for you. This is a person who is not scared of BIG ideas, BIG grief, Big fear. I think a lot of us have fixers but we need more sit-and-hold-spacers. People who just show up and stay by our side without flinching or fixing or throwing a well-intentioned platitude our way. If you’ve got one of these jewels in your squad, make sure you pay it forward . Show up in that way for another person.
CLOSED DOORS - Feel the loss and then (even if it’s a total fake-it-in-the-moment deal) see that closed door as re-direction. If you are visual (like me) it helps to see a giant, loving, guiding light shining overhead, gently reaching down and turning you ever so slightly. So slightly that you don’t even notice.. yet. If you need convincing, take a look back through the intricate unfolding of your life. You will spot the doors that were really secret passages.
WRITE A GRATITUDE LIST - This is the quickest way I know how to hit the reset button when I feel stuck. You can write a mental list on the spot it doesn’t need to be written out to shift your perspective.
PEAKS AND VALLEYS/ROSE AND THORN - Pretty sure I got this one from a Kardashian but it has been a daily practice for me and my girls. We share 1 good thing and 1 bad thing with each other every single day.
PASS - If it doesn’t feel aligned, just say no and trust that something better is coming.
WHAT IS YOUR SUPER POWER? Great, stick to that. Where are the areas you keep hitting your head up against the wall? That thing belongs to someone else. Let them flex THEIR SUPER POWER.
LISTEN - To the intuitive voice. The gut feeling. Your clients. Your kids. Your students. Your followers. If you listen, the next right step is always revealed.
PRODUCTS DON’T SELL THEMSELVES - You can build the most amazing product, wrapped up in the most amazing package, but if you don’t constantly remind people about this amazing thing you have created.. you aren’t going to sell it. This has been a biggie for me. I don’t love self promotion. Real talk? I loathe it, but I have made a big effort to do this more consistently in Year 3. The only way you will find your approach is by consistently doing the thing.
YOU ARE NOT STUCK - Ever. Give yourself permission to learn along the way. To pivot. To change course completely. To back out of partnerships or collaborations that were really great in the beginning but morphed into something else. You get to change your mind and opt out at any point.
BONUS - Go where the love is.
xx
a.
