2015. I was driving over the bridge passing Atlantic Station headed to class. A year into my divorce and my first year of art school. Working thru my family’s generational cycles. Something my parents couldn’t really define to me growing up, but the repeated dysfunctional feelings of my childhood always wanted to regurgitate themselves in the oddest moments as an adult. I couldn’t understand why it felt deeper than my parents, my grandparents, deeper than my own personal experiences. The heaviness. Sometimes ruining relationships and other times saving me from adding more damage. We can’t choose how we enter this world but the fight in us starts with the very first breathe we take. I’ve been in LA about a year and a half now. As I write this I’m overlooking downtown, watching the world change at a pace I can’t keep up with. But when have we or our ancestors ever had a choice of the speed to which we dance with reality? A friend told me regret can kill you in ways you could never imagine + can define the lens to which you see the world. It’s not with your eyes that you experience the views, it’s with your mind. Damn, I wanna tell you so many things but I fear it’s not the right time. You won’t receive me well so I’ll sit back until the right moment comes, if ever. To the systemic cycles that entrap us, keep fighting so our children can see a better life than we have. A better mental experience. Not because of their bank accounts, but because they understand the true currency of life is forgiveness, love, patience and true vulnerability. You could never buy those things because deep down our heart knows us better than we know ourselves. Your heart’s been with you long before you devised that plan to build your life around the things that convince you that you’re worthy. You’ve always been worthy, but it takes experience to understand what worth is. Mental chains are the strongest to break.