One client today was curious enough to ask why I’d changed my name recently online. Of course, it’s one thing to understand within yourself, beyond logic, your intentions. But being asked to vocalize those intentions is another task entirely. I’m not sure if I explained myself very well. I rambled something about matters of identity, growing up in a strict religious environment, my inner child, Saturn’s return. But really the more accurate way to describe the shift in my creative practice that I’m currently going through is this:
Really it feels like I’m learning who that child – the child at the core of me – is at the same pace as everyone else. And that process of discovery is held neatly in the world of my creative practice. All of it, the drawings, the tattoos, the pictures, and most potently, the stories and memories. The more I allow it all to exist together in one place, I think the closer I’ll get to finding a familiar feeling, of being at home within myself.
I want to be less afraid. Bolder. I want to push the envelop when it comes to being myself. I want to be unashamed. Unapologetic. I want to be vivacious, genuine, and free. I want to be honest. I want to live, live, live.
Keeping my given name secret was beginning to feel too close to shame. Why try to bury Annebelle, that child, that part of me from my old world, when she follows me everywhere I go, wanting more than anything to be seen? To be heard? To be loved?
Tomorrow, I’ll pick up the keys to my new place. Later this week, I’ll turn 31. I hope by the end of this year, I can finish my story, prism, and print it. Then I will have completed the full circle.
Good night. I love you.