History Of Me, My Art, & My Grandparents
- Spiritual Journey Of A Slut
- Aug 4, 2021
- 6 min read
Updated: Mar 10, 2022
I’m choosing art and creating …
instead of my prior chosen career path… nursing. Nursing is hell. I considered going back to school at some point but it literally was the equivalent of a watermelon that you keep adding rubberbands to.
Could I have graduated? Absolutely, I have proven to myself by now that I’m plenty capable of starting and finishing something like that and I have the knowledge and drive to make it happen.
Would I have exploded shortly after?
Absolutely. Lol.
To avoid exploding… I’ll just use my knowledge and drive towards something that has been “me” since before I even grasped the concept of “me”.
I made art before I ever even knew why I made art, long before. I just DID. And enjoyed the fuck out of it. My grandpa also made art, did woodworking, and had a strong creative and innovative drive.
My dad, aunt, and half sister all the same but with some differences in their preferred expression of it. But all of us can learn a new medium or new artistic outlet and thrive in it if we so choose to do so. It runs in my family… we are a traumatized bunch. Lol. We can craft our way out of a mental crisis and that’s just fucking facts. But we also can turn right around and get back on crisis road too.
We all do it often in our own ways. My sister and I are the only ones aware that we are and cause our own chaotic problems, though. My dad and my aunt think it’s their luck and everyone else.
My grandpa was less traumatized… or maybe too traumatized and old-fashioned to speak on it. He was very set in his rule on not making the children suffer from his own problems. I was the only one able to get him to open up of the kids/grandkids… I was the only one who cared to try.
He was my favorite. He was blunt and stern and grumpy and strict at times and only affectionate with my grandma (he was very loving and sweet with her, he had a guarded and strict facade with the rest of the family) But I literally couldn’t love him more than I do and did growing up. I’m grumpy too lol so he met his match.
But just as much as I was grumpy… I was loving and sweet and caring and wanted to crawl on, sit on, hug, and kiss my grandparents all the time growing up.
They were my best friends. I was obsessed with them because they were my safe space that I desperately clung to and they remained as such. Grandpa learned quickly he must drop the act… with me at least. I wouldn’t budge on the fact that I was so affectionate and required it in return.
I believe he was able to let his guard down with me because I was the first and only one to pick him as my favorite and I ended up being so much like him. So, we talked and we played and he took me to the park. A lot. We rode fast in the truck. He played basketball with me in his 70s. He showed me a lot of what I know of art and fixing things and making something new again and just working hard. He taught me respect and how to give and earn it. He taught me the meaning of a dollar. He taught me independence. He taught me how to not take any bullshit… I do that one too well at times and other times I need a little help… so did he, though.
I kissed him on his hands and cheeks and he did the same to me even as I became a horrible bitchy teenager. He did so every time I left to go somewhere even just to the grocery store.
When we would make up after an argument he would say “give me your hand” and he would kiss it and hold it on his face and then pat the back of my hand and say that he loved me.
He was honest at all times. He was respectful and demanded respect in return; careful with his words and his actions. Grumpy but not hateful.
My grandma was his #1 for life and she was worth the amount of love he had to give plus some. Sweet, caring, affectionate, easy going, mentally strong deep down, stronger than my grandpa it turned out. I am glad he passed away first. He would have absolutely lost his mind if it went differently. My grandma remained strong and wise. She knew it wasn’t goodbye forever.
I appreciated the love my grandpa had for her over anyone. The kids and grandkids were a close 2nd and that was always enough. It’s because of him that I know what true love is. I am just more progressive in the way I view having a partner. But, the overall idea is the same. I love the fuck out of each person that has found themselves in that position. I also love more outwardly. I love people I’ve never even met; not in the same way but with the same intensity. I love entire cultures when I learn about them sometimes. I don’t know, it’s strange now that I put it into words. It’s nice though. I’m glad I do. I have so much empathy and understanding and real love for people in general.
My grandpa focused his love on his family. that’s ok, too. We all needed it.
My grandma was more like me in this way. I’m a good reflection of them combined concerning love. That’s the one thing I’d have picked, hands down. Of all their good traits, if I had to only choose one, I would have picked the one I got.
Anyways, art. (I find it important to describe my grandparents when it comes up, I always have and always will. They were amazing people and absolutely the main reason I am anything “good” at all in this world)
You can tell by the last paragraph I am an emotionally driven person. I have a lot of emotion. I’m sensitive to the emotions of others. I have love for making something whole again. I have love for making a blank canvas (or anything really… actually rarely a canvas. Mostly rocks, old windows, plywood, etc) into something you can hang on the wall. Art goes hand in hand with “me” and expression of my inner self and emotions. It’s my outlet of choice that I will forever pick. Thankfully it’s a healthy outlet. It is probably one of the only healthy ones I’ve got. I’ve used the fuck out of it this last year.
The last time I can remember making art this much was when I was fairly young, elementary school. I was the kid who did not play with toys. I did not want toys for Christmas or my birthday. I never had any but possibly a few dolls that I didn’t care much about and the odd “cool” toy that I had to get to fit in at school.
I wanted crafts and art supplies, period. I made art every single day… mostly at night time while my grandparents sat together in the living room and we watched Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. They came on every night back to back and that was my “art” time. My grandma did crossword puzzles, my grandpa carved (widdled) wood. We all stayed busy while also watching our game shows. I’m an old soul by my own right.
I wouldn’t have it any other way. It has never steered me wrong that I learned and live by my grandparents ways. I eat some weird stuff compared to other people my age... but otherwise it’s been nothing but positive for me and who I want to be.
So… art is special to me. It’s special to my family as a whole. It’s what we do. It’s who we are. It’s how we deal with life.
Besides creating content on OnlyFans and Pornhub, I am going to be focusing a lot of my energy & attention on my art, too. I hope you can respect the hustle.
check out some of my digital art on my society6 shop… my style right now is…. artistic nudes and shock factor vibes. Lol
By OBYCF [OneBitchYouCantForget] Adult Content Creator, Probably Mentally Unstable, Artist, Newly Spiritual, RN-BSN
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