I can’t point out exactly when it started.
Maybe it started when my grandmother quit smoking for my tenth birthday or the pneumonia her nicotine addiction lead to.
Maybe it was the discovery of her aneurism and the stress that drove me to attempt suicide.
Maybe it was that failed attempt that landed me in foster care.
Whenever the greatest challenges and duration in hell started, I now know that was temporary.
Last time, I was couch surfing. I had “come to realize the personal law of my life’s track”, that my current situation would be the best it will ever be and to enjoy what will be the peace in comparison to my future.
My godmother spoke with her hairdresser and found me a permanent home.
It reminded me then, and still does, of the flash fiction Pockets form the literary magazine I helped with. It was all about how the seemingly unimportant job of a dry cleaner influences the lives of all of her clients, brightening them to near impossible quality that no one else could achieve.
The woman she introduced me to suffered depression. Her puppy brought her an average of three smiles and laughs a day, but it wasn’t enough to help her care for herself with all the limits that come from having a leg amputated. The experience everyone called “child abuse and neglect” was now seen as “work experience”, connecting me to a kind woman who needed a friend just as much as she needed a care taker.
I have never met someone who encouraged my artistic side this much! Before, I wouldn’t have been able to do enough with my diorama for my art appreciation final. Thanks to her acceptance, I did the impossible; my extra creativity got me enough extra credit points to get an A instead of the B she said was the highest letter grade possible.
I may not have gotten the grades in time to keep my job with the computer lab, but it’s opened up considerations that may lead to opportunities.
After helping a friend’s ex with his technical writing final, I was able to test my suggested talent in technical writing, only to find out that the talent other people saw was indeed there. There is still art and creativity in technical writing just as there is logic in art.
To my surprise, he liked my diorama enough to keep it (I didn’t want to keep it, so I didn’t fully care what happened to it). The creativity that got the points was a hand-painted fish on the top. It was my first time painting anything in about five years, and even then I just learned the basics of mixing paint and the color wheel.
His social and talkative nature took over from there when he showed it off to others.
I now have a few commissions for koi thank you cards amongst other pieces.
As for writing and literary art, I’m going to switch my degree to technical writing and transfer to a university and leave my community college. The sudden increase of ease and happiness with a permanent home that allows creativity and is okay with temporary unemployment (even better, Denise is patient about this) allows me to progress. I no longer need to struggle to stay stable, I can now work hard and move forward.
This is the best quality picture I have at the moment, sorry. I’ll share any commission or art selling information if/when available.