Wild Child

After I turned my parents into DCFS, around my thirteenth birthday: My “parents” labeled me a wild child out of control. They found a six pack in my room, which was a friends. Found out I was smoking cigarettes. Said a dish of baby powder, I had used as facial make up to dress up as a clown for Halloween was cocaine. An leaves I was pressing under my bed for a science project at school was pot.


An they read my personal diary.


Even shared the first time I had a sexual encounter with my grandmother. It wasn't even sex. It was more of like my first kiss sorta stuff. But it was a total invasion of my privacy. I felt more violated by that & the lies they told DCFS & others to make themselves look better then they where then the actual beatings themselves.


I didn't write again until I was in my twenties because of it.


The put me in a church school to “straighten me out”. Moved me into a small bedroom upstairs near their room. Covered the windows, so I couldn't even see out. I felt like a prisoner more then a child someone cared about. Like I was living out Cinderella in real life, with no fairy god mother to give me a glass slipper. The work load increased but I didn't care.


I had stopped something that needed to be stopped.


Physically anyway. I was pretty much stripped of who I was. Forced to wear dresses, even though I was the worlds biggest tomboy. It did nothing but give me a resentment of God at the time. Listening to the lectures each morning in bible study typically made me mad. The church was very conservative. It treated women sub servant. They didn't believe in music. Or dancing. An to the other kids there, I was the wild child who didn't conform.


Nor did I really want to.


Truth is, I felt bad for a lot of them. They didn't seem to understand there was a whole world out there waiting for them. I felt most of them where being taught to be afraid of it. An it didn't make sense to me God would give us a world that provided everything we needed, to be in fear of it. All I had during that time period in my life, was my music & my art. They always got me through each day.


An to me, where God given muses.


So instead of fighting this image of me, they all labeled me. I embraced it.


Lord knows, they all gave me more then enough material to rebel against. To me, it was just having the strength to get through another day of brain washing. It did though make me think about God. An what God really was in the most primitive way. I accepted Jesus died on a cross. That I probably should be bastardized to wash away the pain I was feeling. It didn't really work, but it gave me another outlet. I decided I believed in God, just not their take on him. An spent a lot of time learning to argue in biblical verse.


That whole year, really is when I started to believe in the power of the mind.


Mind over matter. That no matter what the circumstances, if I kept it strong I would & endure anything thrown at me until I turned 18. To me, it was physiological abusive. An made me really leery of religion. Not God. Or spirituality because spirit is what I felt got me through that time in my life. An the power of the will to over come & the mind. To me, ya just had to be smarter then the people holding you back.


I just through myself into art more. Listened to my music


An embraced my inner bitch if you will: Wild Child. I really didn't do much wrong. I actually probably was a model kid growing up in the 80s but an chance I got to party or raise a little hell I did. If your going to get accused of something, well then you might as well drink that Jack with the cute bad boy of the school instead of go to the football game. But I was a responsible partier even back then. I couldn't afford to get caught, be locked back into a room & stuck back in a church school I hated. I learned not to get caught. Period.


So when I threw up from drinking, it was in a closet & no one found out about it.


I'd skip lunch everyday at the new high school & go off campus for smokes. It was so routine that principle use to wave at me thinking I did indeed have permission to do so. I spent two years there basically taking every art class I could. An meet my future husband. Then we moved to another location an I took two more years of art. So it was like me being a sophomore in college art, instead of high school. That's how much art I did. But when Senior year hit, I started dating Mr. Wild thing from my old high school. He was Mr. Party himself.


My dad hated him, just based on all the information he had mustered up from my uncle about him. An the first thing my dad did was accuse him of stealing a watch from his truck. He had actually spent the day with me mowing lawns, an my dad was furious. I was forbidden from seeing him an well, that just made us all the closer. After I turned 18, I skipped work to see him: We went mudding in my Chevette. Got the thing stuck in a mud puddle. An I couldn't go home that night. I called my mother, to tell her I was saying at friends house from work for the night. She demanded I come home or I would be kicked out an would not receive any help for Art College.


I had been accepted at several.


Him & I went an spoke with his mother. Explained the situation an she agreed to let me move in if they did kick me out. The next day, we got the car unstuck an went to my house to see all my belongings strewn all over the yard. I actually consider it one of the best things that ever happened to me. My parents where just beyond overly strict. They actually had no clue, what a good kid I was. An I was so overly ready to break loose it wasn't even funny.


I was suppose to graduate a year early at the first high school. So I finished my first semester of senior year. Dropped out, knowing I could still graduate at the other in a reasonable amount of time taking a semester off. An I finally got to be the free spirited person I was. Myself. Wild child or not. Rebel whatever they wanted to call me didn't matter anymore: I was finally free of the bullshit once an for all. An I embraced it.


We where the official party couple.


Hosting party's all the time, drinking & smoking weed but to me: We really where not as wild as the stories told about us. Some of them really where out there. I really put down the art during the next two or three years. I suddenly had 5-6 of his friends I adopted as brothers coming in an out of the house all the time. It wasn't a quiet environment where you could do art really. But I didn't mind. I had been waiting to be released from prison since I was 13. We spend a huge amount of time, camping, hiking an just being outdoors. I loved it. An he did try to give me space to do art, while he fished. I just wasn't as into it because I knew I was not going to be able to go to college for it like I planned.


An I probably did need time off from it before I burnt myself out on something I loved.


So, my early 20's was about embracing my inner “wild thang”. In fact, he use to call me that. While some of the guys, I consider a second family to me in a lot of ways called me “Dragon Lady”. Now weather that was because I sat in the living room trying to paint blue dragon mural once or because I spent a lot of time trying to keep the “lost boys” out of trouble only they can tell ya. Either way, I earned my party stripes an didn't get serious again until I returned for my last semester in high
school.


To me, it was a year of exploration.


An finally being able to enjoy myself. An sometimes we have to get out in the world, explore it to express it creatively. An my little party reputation landed me jobs, that later came in handy running a business that was all about entertainment.


Explore. Express. Create.


An that's kinda where my little motto came from. Those years. It was the first years of my life, I actually got to get really social. I didn't get a lot of art done during that time. The half painted blue dragon, a half drawn picture of my Siberian Husky, a colored pencil drawing of the boyfriend fishing….the last thing I completed was a stipple of Tommy Lee of Motley Crue.


I didn't really go into the relationship or that time period to give up art.


More like, put it away for a while and just be. Enjoy. Pick it back up later, after the growth spurt I felt I was going through was over. I wrote some but not much over the seven years I was with my first husband. An the truth maybe, we where just really too young to be that serious about one another but when adulthood reality hit I wasn't that thrilled to be waiting tables & selling shots for a living. To me, it was just a stage. Not one I could see myself stuck in the rest of my life.


Even though I embraced my party beast so to speak.


My cousin getting hit by a drunk driver, made me wake up. It woke a lot of us up. She had just turned 21. An it hit all of us hard. The whole community. Everyone our age. Straighten me right up, even though I typically still was the party responsible girl: It made me more so being involved in the bar & local party scene. I cared we lost her to it. An it tore me apart watching people my husband & I both loved get involved in heavier drugs. An go down paths to me even then seemed rotten ones to choose.


I'm not ashamed tosay I tried coke.


I don't know a person growing up in the eighties that didn't. But I am thankful I didn't get addicted. Had enough sense not to get involved with it an don't really care if some saw me as someone who would lecture not to do the shit. Or heavier stuff. I'm may have been free spirited. A little hippy dippy but not stupid. An I saw that whole scene as stupid. Something that would waste your life away. An it has several of the “kids” we grew up with. A lot or no longer around to argue with me about not doing it because they did it. I'm thankful that because of the way I grew up: I saw consequences. I might have been a little more serious then most but it's why I'm still sitting here today. I know how to throw down a party, make money an no one get hurt an have a good time. Like they are suppose to.


I was watching Netflix: Internet Memes recently an kinda got grateful my generation didn't grow up with social media. I'm not ashamed of my partier status or anything from back in the day. Cause trust me, we all where notorious in our local area: but I out grew going out all the time an raising hell. I had children. I settled down. I went out but not all the time. It became a business, with the family bar more then a past time. An it might have been one part of my personality but not all of it.


The show I watched, one of the guys in it is a major influencer that travels bar to bar across the nation photographing parties. Creating events. I didn't travel bar to bar: but I ran several once upon a time. An you do get burnt out on it. I was burnt out on parting before my dad even bought the tavern. I had moved on into business management & a serious career. Motherhood. Doing art again. I wasn't thrilled to back behind a bar peddling drinks again. I was interested in business, marketing & event planning but burnt out on college type scene of it.


I had “grown up”.


An yes, I'm grateful for the business but really didn't want to get stuck in a role. A role that influencer got himself stuck in. One I could have been stuck in had social media existed back when we where all in our hay day and later when my father opened it. The guys 33, an yes it gets old. In fact, later after my first husband & I split: I got a call from him upset that his new girlfriend didn't get it. He didn't want to drink and party all the time like she did. Been there done that. An could I please explain that to her. You might want to be that person in your twenties, but eventually it grows old. You don't want to be the life of the party every day anymore.


Social media was hitting hard, just after my father passed an we decided to reopen the bar. It needed to be done but I didn't want to be “that” person I was in my twenties anymore. It's a part of who I am: The preferable wild child but it's not all of who I am. I didn't mind helping the girls out to get it promoted and going on the internet social scene but I was pretty careful not to be seen much. I'd show artwork, promote music an celebrate the ol' lifestyle but I didn't want it become my image.


It's only one part of my life. Not all of it.


My dad would call it being a professional. An the guy on the show is, as we all where. Are. But he's now stuck in a rut. He can't escape from. People don't see him as a professional photographer. They see him as a party guy. They see image of him. That is how he makes his money. He doesn't own a business that's conducive with settling down, or having a family. Something he wants. An it might be part of why I side stepped the whole scene an was happy to just run my family photography studio. I could have been over there the whole time, taking pictures an posting just the scene on my social media promoting the bar. An I was there the first night of a major concert even with SoiL doing just that. Documenting it all.


I just didn't feel people would take my art seriously if that's all I did.


They'd just expect the wild child party girl. An helping promote it by hooking up with everyone I've ever known locally since grade school that is kinda how some saw me. They'd ask about me and my first husband. Even though we've been separated well over 15 years by that time. They'd expect me to come out an meet them for drinks. Although I rarely drink. They'd expect me to be that girl again. Which I'm not. She's just one part of me.


A part I'm proud of but not stuck in the role of acting out.


That guy on the show, is stuck. It's going to be hard for him to get another job or be seen any other way then party hardy mr. irresponsibility. Even if behind the scenes he's really not even that person he is know for anymore. At least I can walk away from it saying I was a CEO of a successful business but if my face was plastered all over social media drunk from every party I ever attended in my life time I'm not sure I could have moved on to other things I have.


Before social media it was easy to do three jobs at once & them not interfere with one another. Now, I swear it just confuses people when I post party pictures and bands, then post my family portrait stuff. Add the other types of artwork I do an all my interests an the I get crickets from the people on social media because I have known so many different types of folks.


It was a headache just getting on social media for me.


Some knew I did art. Some only knew me from retail management. Some only the bar. Others from my raisin hell party days. Some just from the internet, that I use to sit in spiritual rooms with pondering the meaning of life with. It was like all the different aspects of my personality took a crash & burn. Some expected me to stay in one role. Kinda like some expect you to stay stuck in one art form. I helped get the bar off the ground on social media, promoted my fractal art work but went ghost after it all got a solid ground start.


I went an focused on a completely different art form.
An got off the internet for the most part.


Outside of promoting my studio to a totally different local market I wasn't on it much at all. Not because I'm unsocial. Just because I don't like getting stuck in a certain role. What I figured out pretty quickly about the whole social explosion was a expectation I'd entertain others without getting paid. I had influence. An well I can't eat likes, so I went back to work doing something I knew would bring in a income. Something more close to the person I am today.


I was pretty private about it as well.


Outside of my kids, no one but my customers knew I was even doing photography. I didn't need internet attention to do art. It's nice don't get me wrong when folks appreciate your work. But too many where asking for work for next to nothing because they knew me. I don't and can't work for free. I have my own family to support. An that's the dilemma that influencer had got himself stuck in. One he is going to have to break out of.


I don't mind documenting my artwork, or even my life but I prefer people to focus on my work: Not me. An it gets mighty uncomfortable on the internet every time someone I dated eons ago jumps on my page drunk or another tries to keep me in roles I've out grown. Since most have settled down on the internet now as themselves, an come to the renationalisation people have grown in an out of roles themselves I can be authentically myself.


Maybe I can tell my story & be authentically me.
My inner wild child demands it: Without role expectations.


An I'm okay with her, even if a few aren't. I'm not ashamed of the life I've lead. I've had many lives inside this one. Many chapters have played out in this book that is my life. My childhood was just one aspect of it. An I will not sit here an let my mothers approval or disapproval of what I have to say about that part of my life keep me from speaking my own truth. An just like back then, when I left home: I've been cast out for spilling it. A few aren't speaking to me because of it.


An that's okay.


Just like back then: I feel set free to be myself. Free spirited. Not so much wild now but pretty content an calm about doing my own thing. Which includes being all aspects of myself. Not just this or that season in my life. I think worrying about other's approval is one of the biggest problems we are facing on the internet today. It can stunt your growth as a person if you let it. Keep you from making art or showing it out of fear of rejection. Keep you from pursuing a life long dream. Shy you away from doing things you know you need to do for your business to be a success. Or keep you stuck in a rut if you let it.


Telling your story can be hard.


I have a personal hang up about others reading my work because my privacy was invaded when I was a teen. Yet I have a few screaming I'm invading their telling my story. I've always journaled as an adult. And as an artist, it's something I need to do. It helps me grow as an artist an connect with my fans an others more like myself. Who have gone through similar things, or out grown others. At age 50, I'm going into my grandmother stage. The wise old owl stage. The seasoned artist. An I'd be bent if someone tried to make me live the role I played in life when I was 13, 22 or even 40.


If someone isn't being supportive of you growing as a person or an artist.
Then cut them out of your life on social media.


Their approval & likes aren't needed.
Appreciated but not needed.


They are probably never going to buy your art, service or product. Especially if they can not embrace you as the whole person you are today. If I had to give advice to the guy stuck in party harty land photographing it. I'd tell him to move on to a different subject. Something that he is interested in now. It's why I choose to sneak off, disappear an do family photography. It's a subject, I still can embrace all the time. While once in a while I don't mind showing up at the local party scene an taking a few now in then. It's not what my life is about much anymore.


Your art & your story is about you.


Know what kind of customer & audience you want now. Not ten years ago. Twenty years ago. I have customers I've known since 1994. Most of them don't give a rat's ass for my fractal artwork. Some really love it. Others, totally dig my portrait photography. Some dig that I get into business like I do. Or music. Some just now figuring out I'm even an artist an can draw. Or paint. Some are just computer geeks, that totally get me & the fractal work. Some are never going to buy a piece of my art, but would love to buy me a drink down at the old family business an chit chat with them. Thrilled to hear my stories. An talk about the good ol' days. How I evolved from that to this. Why this an not that. Or where did you come up with that idea?


The point is, people are interested in artist stories.
An by the time you reach my age, it's a long one.


It's evolved. So has my art. So will yours. It's called growth.


Don't let social media or your past keep you stuck in a rut you no longer want to be in or do. Celebrate it because it's a part of what made you who you are now. But just like any job, it's okay to move on to the next one. The next phase. The next development. The next chapter of your life. It could be the best move you ever made. Me getting my car stuck in the mud at 18 my dad saw as one the biggest mistakes I made as a teen, dropping out but I finished and into adulthood. Lead me into a huge growth spurt, freedom and into learning business that also saved his ass more then a couple of times later on.


So don't be afraid to tell your story.


I am so much more then just a Wild Child.
And “Dragon Lady” didn't bother me much either.
It sold a lot of Jagger when I needed it too.


Besides, if you don't tell your story: People will just make stuff up anyway.
My life has been chalked with people telling tall tales.


It never hurts to tell your own version; In fact it usually sets ya free.


An that's the whole point of art anyway is to express your life story creatively.