Do you feel this too?

I never want to feel overwhelmed again.

Right now, bills, groceries, and not having a sense of community or purpose make me feel overwhelmed. I’m done with those feelings. I still need to pay my bills, but my funds are dwindling. Honestly, part of me just wants to say “eff it” and let them dwindle.

In ten years, I want passive income. I want to be happy with it. I don’t want to spend it all on silly things. I want intentional vacations. I want bills that are worthy and intentional. I want good food. I don’t care that much about image anymore, other than looking clean and carrying myself well.

I care about sustainability, but I don’t care to please PETA, vegans, or anyone who talks down on people for shopping at Shein. I’ve been there. Shein got me through hard moments when I needed something affordable and quick. I’m tired of rules. I’m tired of hustle culture. I’m tired of “how-to” culture. How to do what, exactly?

I want to do art festivals. I want to be around people and talk to them. That’s really it. I want to make art so I can connect with people, learn what they like, hear what they know, see who they hang around, and ask where they’re from and where they’re going. Yes, I want to sell out my art, but more than anything I want to see people and talk to them.

I don’t want to prove anything anymore. I’m so tired. I don’t care to prove.

Maybe I should put this in a blog.**

In the future I’m at an art festival, chopping it up with folks. Then me and my family are lugging all my stuff back to my art studio in Columbus, Ohio, getting ready for the next festival. I’m painting. I’m looking at birds and learning from nature. I use my technology differently. I make art for a different reason than survival. My comics and books sell out. I make more art, talk to more people, shop at local brands, and read local books.

Who’s around me? My son. My partner. My art friends. Maybe a cat. Definitely some plants. The spirit of God. People I can truly connect with.

A slow morning looks like sitting on the porch with tea, looking around, and waving to neighbors walking by. It looks like watching the sunrise. It looks like crying tears of joy. It looks like dancing. It looks like playing music on a Sunday morning.

I want to have enough money. Enough time. Enough beauty. Enough thinking space. Enough creative space. I want to slow time down when frustration or impatience starts to rise.

When a book says “do this in 12 weeks,” I want to expect it to take 48. I want to give myself room to grow and learn.

I never want to feel impatient again. I never want to feel doubtful, like an imposter, ugly, frustrated, or angry. Not in that tight, desperate way. I am done with that.