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Some Real Talk

looking up at the golden canopy, pondering

I’m here for some real talk tonight.

Rarely do I share anything on this platform that isn’t positive and magical, but today I’m feeling negative, angry, and frustrated. All week, and even longer, I’ve flown in and out of depressive states. I’ve done all the self-care to help with this, but it still remains. Why, then, am I feeling negative, angry, and frustrated?

I started my platform a few years ago, centered around the magic of nature. I began an Instagram account, have been writing books and poetry, and even started a YouTube channel around it. In those few years, I’m grown so much but my platform has grown so little. I know there are people out there that truly and deeply care about nature and beyond, but why on Earth can’t they find me?

I feel what I have to say and share with the world is so important, yet where is the world? I share, and hear crickets. Where is everyone? I know I can’t be the only one on planet Earth right now. I’m frustrated because I share but nothing comes back to me. I’ve done so much for myself, the earth and others to heal and to feel full of spirit, and all I do is share what I’ve learned. Yet, crickets are my audience. I can blame this on myself, the Universe, or the goddamn Instagram algorithm, but what does that do for anyone?

Also, after talking to some sisters a few days ago, I realized a couple of things. Sometimes we see people on social media with perfect lives, and then find out that they too struggled in the beginning. Well, folks, if I’ve ever deceived you in that way I want to share with you my truth as of today. Full transparency. I share a house with an older couple and exchange work around the house/airbnb/garden/food forest to live here. I live rent free but what I offer in exchange is enough to live here. In addition to that, I am a housekeeper at another Air Bnb in town and that is where the majority of my monthly income comes from. It is not much, enough for groceries and a few bills. My dad died a few months ago and his inheritance has helped me tremendously, including his blue truck I travel locally around in now. His life, his inheritance is allowing me to start my business off right and to do so many other things I’ve wanted to do but didn’t have the money to. I have an Etsy store with the intent to create a steady monthly income so I can take care of myself and the planet by donating a little extra each month, though right now I’m not even making $100 a month. I am an artist of many mediums - a photographer, permaculturist, pen artist, musician, and author. I spend every. single. day. working on many projects, sharing information on this platform, and creating books. Some days I work for 12 hours. Some days I feel extremely discouraged for what I’m doing, for following my heart and passions because I feel like no one cares and no one sees them. I know, pretty negative but it is what I’m feeling lately. I want to be an artist who is seen, supported, and abundant. Yet, the crickets look up at me in silence!

Often times I wonder what I’m doing wrong. I find myself doing hours and hours of research about marketing and business work - trying everything under the sun - yet crickets.

Some sisters and I were talking about consumerism and the modern world. Yet, though I’m a certain way, being a conscious consumer, others may not be there yet - still shopping at Target and missing out on some of the great artwork artists have to offer online or even at markets. I get angry at humanity for being this way, yet I was this way too once. Years ago I cut myself off from mindless shopping and slowly began being a conscious shopper, either buying at thrift stores or from people who actually gave a fuck about the environment and being a human.

I look up at my dad’s picture, the one I keep in front of me on my desk, and I can hear him say, “It’ll come, Ash.” I just feel so frustrated and alone. I know that I’m not the only artist who has gone through this. I just need more faith or hope or something. I need to know that this is going to work out. I haven’t worked a real “job” in two years and it would kill my soul if I had to go back.

All of this garbage is keeping me from my true, magical self. I haven’t written about adventures in the forest, or anything mystical or whimsical for ages. I haven’t played piano in a year. I want to be the childish self again, doing what I love to do for no reason at all. I want to “BE” and be taken care of. I hear all the fucking time, “Be yourself and the rest will follow, follow your passions and abundance will come to you.” Chirp… chirp… chirp…

If you made it this far, thank you dearly for reading. If you are one of those people that genuinely enjoys what I do, could I ask you a favor? Interact with me. Let me know you’re there. Being an artist is a two way thing… I can give my art but someone needs to receive it. Even if it is a comment saying, “great vid!” or “this really helped me because…” Your voice matters too, share how you feel about something, even if It pisses you off! If you need something like a new journal, a new shirt, a gift… something to read… consider being a conscious consumer and buy from an artisan, even if it’s not me. Your money is energy, it is “voting for what you want.”

I don’t really have anything else to say at this point, other than I’m excited for my day trip tomorrow so I can forget about it all and lay under the golden canopy forest.

Until next time,


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