A Stack of Words

I painted this using my blood while in a fit of blind, detached rage.

I lost my first home. I lost my career. My car was repossessed. My wife was gone. I was in my mom’s basement. I had no plans for my future. I didn’t want a future. I tried to kill myself twice. I wasn’t even successful at that. All of this happened in just the span of two years. I was doing so well but life had left me absolutely shattered. I snapped.

I dipped my hands in paint and used my fingers with two paint brushes. Jameson was my paint thinner. Blood dripped from my hand that was slashed open from slamming a pint glass onto a brick wall after chugging my beer earlier. I believe I fractured my hand but the pain was comforting. It allowed me to focus on physical pain instead of mental stress and heartbreak. Physical pain is a feeling I can process easier. I wiped my hands on my shirt and used the sweat from my head to switch to a new paint color when it needed to. The blood dripped onto the canvas and blended with the warm colors flawlessly.

I woke up the next morning to a completed painting.

This was cathartic. While I was neither purged of the negative emotions nor overcome with a sense of clarity I achieved a comfortable numbness. I was detached. I navigated my life as if I were a third party observing my actions. It was a healthy part of the process to protect myself while I was healing.

This painting terrifies me.

I have synesthesia. The colors are the sounds of Justin Nozuka, Sheena Ringo, Pastor Troy, Cibo Matto, James Morrison, Rage Against the Machine, Waka Flocka Flame, and Kendrick Lamar. I created a Spotify playlist so you can check out the songs that inspired it here.

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