I really tried

I really tried to like living without my Mama and family. But honestly. Who really like to be cut off from their Mama? Like really folks?

It’s like being forced into a third party situation by your own Mama and expected to be happy about feeling like a cheater? When the one you love is still alive and you just can’t get to them? Seriously dysfunctional at it best and worst.

  • I don’t hate anyone. I just love and want my Mama back. Am I supposed to keep saying a lie after all this time? I always have loved and wanted her? Guess she thought different?
  • I figure waking her up would and was the only way? It’s like my Mama went I to a deep sleep about me? Seems waking her up is the answer? Because I am her princess. Who needs a prince when she’s got me?

I love both now. But had to really work at expanding my emotions to create space for a woman I didn’t even know before Adoption. Ok?

Art is therapy. Hope.

I found so much peace working with art. It’s just so funny how creating something beautiful can focus the energies into something transformative.

The colors are energizing. This red, orange and yellow colors make me feel empowered and energized. These colors are the same colors of the chakras. Root, sacral, and solar plexus.

As an Orphan I can attest to how separation from my Mama rocked my foundation energetically. And I am not the same. It affected me in a very deep way and art helped me process such complex emotions that no one could even see.

I work it out many ways. Art is one. Singing also is a energizing way to release pended up energies that I could not place and yet found in song. Puff the Magic Dragon was one of my favorites growing up. Peter Paul and Mary’s harmonies soothed my spirit as I was forced to travel this world without my Mamas hand to hold and arm to rest on and smell?

Yes. Smell. How I soothed myself was also to smell the closest thing to my Mamas smell was myself and my blanket growing up gave me much comfort because as I woke at night with night terrors, I clung and smelled my Blankie.

I slept with blankie until I was in sixth grade. I kept blankie as long as I could. She feel apart. But I still sleep with some kind of Blanket these days too. Why give up something that works?

Coping mechanisms we create for lack of the original are key to self comforting? And self comfort is key in an orphans life.

I hope you enjoy my creations today. I am now on Fineartamerica.com so please if you would like one of my prints check it out. The link to my page is below. And please share. It’s how I am earning income now. Thank you!! In advance to anyone who purchases something.


Hopefully I can find more ways to share my creations.

Thanks for coming by and that you like to read.

Again. Thanks for diving deep with me today.

God bless!!

Today on twitter

Yep. Folks be saying shit like this about their Mamas. She’s kind of describing my Mama. I feel like adoption just made it easier for my own Mama to just stay narcissistic. Rejection over load with my Mama. She looks like she loves Jesus. But? Well? Today. Beyond our past she’s MIA and in plain sight. Lol. So ludicrous.

Adoption sends a message to woman like my Mama that says it’s ok to walk away from your calling. And made it my calling to expose. My Own Mama wants m to treat her with respect. When she did not even leave instructions with me? She did not even give a shit enough.

I mean we tell ourselves things at the age of 25. The age my Mama was when she began telling stories without me. All god had to do to get to her was get me to show up to find her. She? Freaked out. Not me. My reaction is a counter reaction to her first reaction. I am the feedback to get affect. We all are. Shall I say it was lovely over tea?? And scones? Shall I say let’s do it again? For your pride sake Mother? Shall I shout the praises of my Mama who gave me away? And told no one? Love. Has everything to do with it.

And I’ve loved you enough to stand up to your delusional ass? And make you, face your actions? And walked with you while it all hit home. Not alone like you did me. Alone, meaning without you. Ok? I’ve walked three years now with you. Ministering to your ungrateful ass about truth Mama. Oh.

I’m living in a garage Mama. Steve Jobs started his career and life purpose in a garage Mama. He was adopted. He went to college and dropped out. Me too. He’s my big brother thanks to you and his Mama. This whole adoption land is a house of cards you know? Paper stacked against paper. Our rights still stand when we finally get it together after we realize that our rights are intact just disarmed. We’ve just been trained to believe who we have been told we are. But the spells wearing off. And the sleeping have awaken. And the witches are scared. Because now they know that we know all their shit. Because we were always awake. Some play fair. Some don’t. Some realize. Some struggle. To realize the science of it.

Don’t think I don’t know and thank God for my own children I taught to pick at me about you!! They have been my ministers Mama. They have preened me. Cuz you or Mama Jean could not see what they see beyond all this! I’m tired of this shit. We win when you call me. It’s on you now. You blocked. You must unblock. This must stop. We are still connected. It’s silly to play like we are not. And unhealthy. No one hates you. I really don’t like some of your actions, and it makes me act a certain way? And the kids and I do this to each other? It’s much like being a energy and word ninja. I am trying to find the best description for what’s going on here.

I have been honest. I would like to forget this too. I would have loved it if God would have left me alone and not called me to the front of the class to speak about my lessons. Explaining my life experiences in my own words is exactly what God wanted me to do. Not a rehearsed phrase. But exactly how it felt which was up and down and all around. Excuse me for bursting you bubble. But that’s the affect adoption had on me. No bubble. It’s made me a bubble popper. Pop pop pop. Without even trying.

I feel it all. And work on a bubble while folks tear it away. People like me bubbless. They just don’t like when I burst their bubbles. Many people are like,” oh, I love being with you, your energy is so amazing”, and they love to feed on unconditional love. Many have conditions on how they will experiences love. They put conditions on how. I work daily to maintain a position of unconditional love. Take it as it comes and respond honestly to what is. Love is not all yummy? Love is like blending? Who wants to jump in a blender? Anyone? No! No one wants a blender? We want oowy goowie love. Not all this work?

And I think? Work? Work is fun? It’s that you’ve told yourself working isn’t fun that you’ve sucked all the life out of it? I live in a garage!! To prove a point. No. It’s not easy? Living in a garage to make a point? No one wants to help you when you live in a garage? Like what a realization!! Wow!! You can help. But no one wants to come by and help? They want you to help? I am now “The Help” mother truckers? Yep.

Would a big house make me feel like the laborer? Or Queen? No. No. Because that’s a lie. To be most, you must be least. To lead, you must follow. A garage has no hold on me as a mortgage and all that. A large house would provide more room for more people to come stay? Bigger boat more folks want to ride?

I think about Mother Earth. She works all the time. She’s spinning us around 1000 like a crystal ball in her hand. I think about Father God. How much he wants us all to see language is key. The language of love is a hard one to learn to decode situations that appear hostel and are more like a language barrier if not disturbed with naturally work itself out with no harm if folks could just see.

My Mama and I work on language. And science. Psychology. Spirituality. Gospel interpretation. Prayer. Practice. Manifestation. And we do the dishes and cook. I’ve given her a mental test and then rest. But we are not done.

Boot camp. Oh the many things me and Mama are learning. She’s gonna thank me. Xoxox. When the sanity go marching in baby.