I think it is so cute (and when I say cute, I means stupid) when people who have know me practically all my life ask me if I’m still drawing. I just wanna say, are you still breathing, because for me it is almost one of the same. Drawing is what I do. Okay, sure I have not actually drawn anything since I got back from New York. (Wow. Has it actually been that long?) I don’t know what my problem is to be honest with you. I wish I did. It’s not a lack of ideas, because I have those out the butt. No, literally out the butt. I mean just the other day I was at the Proctologist’s office and he was like; “What’s this?” And I was like, “Oh, that’s just a bunch of ideas I have.” And he was like, “Oh, well you might want to get to work on that.” And I was like, “Yeah, I know…” So, it’s not that I don’t have the ideas (hell, I even have a studio full of half finished works). And it’s not as if I don’t have the supplies. For some reason I am just missing the motivation. WHERE HAS MY MOTIVATION GONE?
Anyway, today we laid to rest my step-father’s mother, Mrs. Jessie. Everyone called her Mrs. Jessie. It was a term of endearment. Anyway, I was so off today, for some reason. Like I drove directly to the church because I actually forgot that the proper protocol is to meet at the house and ride in the funeral procession. Anyway, once I got there I sought out my mom and made sure I went down the isle with her so I could sit by her side. My mom is so cute. She started crying before the funeral even got started good. She reminds me of that lady on Good Times who would just started bawling every time a word was said during a funeral. And of course, this is the typical ghetto funeral for my family. How come the man in front of me, my aunt’s too young husband, wore a big ass Purple Suit? That crap was so freaking distracting. And then I look down and my cousin, who is wearing sandals, has press on nails on her toes. I didn’t even know they made press on nails for your toes. Oh, and they were orange to boot, which is okay, seeing as she was wearing an orange jump suit.
Then the thing that was really going to cause me to crack up (meaning laugh) was that they keep referring to the good pastor as; get this, Dr. Rev. “I won’t say the name”. No disrespect, but I still don’t remember when this man got his PHD. Heck, I didn’t even know he gotten past his undergraduate. Then, when we go to the burial ground, I make the fatal mistake of having my sister and her two daughter ride with me. My nieces are a mess. I love them to death. They talk about everyone, to the point that I have cracking up with laughter.
Anyway, I hate funeral. I don’t like to think about death. But I did tell my sister and nieces that when I die I want my tomb stone to read; “Bye-Bye, Bitches!” Is that inappropriate? I hope not, because my niece says that if nothing else she will make sure that she gets this done for me.
My family is a mess, but I love them unconditionally. And let me tell you, that ain’t the easiest thing in the world to do.
Thanks again for being patient with me. If I could find out what happened to my motivation I’d be all good. I know I don’t have writer’s block, if that’s what you guys are thinking. It’s just that I am motivationally constipated. I am going to make myself draw something, anything, because I do know if you don’t use your talent, God will take it away. I’ve seen it happen.
Anyway, today we laid to rest my step-father’s mother, Mrs. Jessie. Everyone called her Mrs. Jessie. It was a term of endearment. Anyway, I was so off today, for some reason. Like I drove directly to the church because I actually forgot that the proper protocol is to meet at the house and ride in the funeral procession. Anyway, once I got there I sought out my mom and made sure I went down the isle with her so I could sit by her side. My mom is so cute. She started crying before the funeral even got started good. She reminds me of that lady on Good Times who would just started bawling every time a word was said during a funeral. And of course, this is the typical ghetto funeral for my family. How come the man in front of me, my aunt’s too young husband, wore a big ass Purple Suit? That crap was so freaking distracting. And then I look down and my cousin, who is wearing sandals, has press on nails on her toes. I didn’t even know they made press on nails for your toes. Oh, and they were orange to boot, which is okay, seeing as she was wearing an orange jump suit.
Then the thing that was really going to cause me to crack up (meaning laugh) was that they keep referring to the good pastor as; get this, Dr. Rev. “I won’t say the name”. No disrespect, but I still don’t remember when this man got his PHD. Heck, I didn’t even know he gotten past his undergraduate. Then, when we go to the burial ground, I make the fatal mistake of having my sister and her two daughter ride with me. My nieces are a mess. I love them to death. They talk about everyone, to the point that I have cracking up with laughter.
Anyway, I hate funeral. I don’t like to think about death. But I did tell my sister and nieces that when I die I want my tomb stone to read; “Bye-Bye, Bitches!” Is that inappropriate? I hope not, because my niece says that if nothing else she will make sure that she gets this done for me.
My family is a mess, but I love them unconditionally. And let me tell you, that ain’t the easiest thing in the world to do.
Thanks again for being patient with me. If I could find out what happened to my motivation I’d be all good. I know I don’t have writer’s block, if that’s what you guys are thinking. It’s just that I am motivationally constipated. I am going to make myself draw something, anything, because I do know if you don’t use your talent, God will take it away. I’ve seen it happen.
