Decisions

Our beliefs are never more clearly expressed than through our decisions. Until we put our convictions into actions, we may question whether it is a real conviction in the first place.

Making a different decision in life, breaking the cycles whether large or small, is proving to be one of the most difficult tasks we can ever hope to attempt. Even changing something small, like a eating habit or a netflix habit, sometimes feels like an insurmountable mountain to climb. But these small moments, when we do have the opporunity to change the rudder, correcting the course of our ship even 1 or 2 degrees, means an entirely different outcome in the long run.

I’m working a lot right now probably too fucking much but this has been my life for about 5 years. What I enjoy about this process though is that I can feel my mentality and understanding increasing in depth and resilience as I continue to deal with problems that arise when trying to conduct business and trying to work with and communicate with people. Starting a business has been this very enlightening love/hate relationship… because while it is an amazing opportunity to be an owner, you also have to address all the problems as the owner, or the final decision maker. Sometimes in a daydream I wish I could just not have to make certain decisions, but at the end of the day, I do.

I’m realizing that one of the most helpful things to staying sane in this world is finding the option to let things be. Let things happen, let things come and go, let people do, let people think, let people go. I know that my default is feeling the need to control circumstances and people to fit exactly what I’m envisioning the ideal situation to be… but this was making me so unhappy… so then I discovered the magical option - to let it go.

I have been making attempts to better myself, to clean out my mind. to change some habits that are getting in the. way of my true =desires. Sometimes you find yourself in a place where your mind is so filled with all this bullshit that you realize you don’t know how you truly feel about anything… It’s like realizing that you were coaxed along into another person’s world, or will, and before you know you it you are living as a piece of furniture or as a battery in someone else’s dream.

Change is all but an idea until a different choice is made. That’s why decisions hold so much power - that this is the moment your conviction has materialized, and that it is actually compelling you to live differently. From one perspective, you could look at your decisions and arrive swiftly at the truth of what is at the core of who you are, since nothing is more revealing of your true desires other than the choices that are made inevitably from them.

Nothing In, Nothing Out

It seems trite to use the metaphor of the caterpillar, cacoon and butterfly… but the more i think about this process the more it amazes me. That the caterpillar, entering this mythical darkness… a death, to transform into a completely new form.

The cacoon has been used as a symbol over and over again as the dark and lonely place of death and transformation. The caterpillar enters it alone and transforms alone in its secluded pod… away from the influences of the outside world.

You don’t realize how much you are influenced until you fight to find a quiet place in your mind. To discover your own point of view is to climb the proverbial heights and walk the unpaved paths within the mind. It is very possible to go through much of our lives completely and totally influenced, led along, by the happenings of the world around us - communities, friends, family… though all an integral part of our lives, offer a constant stream of input, opinions, and social expectations.

For whatever reason I needed to hide in the cocoon for some time… to allow my self to ask myself questions, to think of my true answers. I started to realize that there are no ultimate teachers, and no one who holds the ultimate answer. There is no one single way, but more so that the “truth” or the “way” is reflected and inherent in everything around us - everything we experience and perceive. What and who are we looking to to tell us how all of this works? What can any of these celebrities, channels, e-books and influencers tell you that you could not begin to understand if you were willing to undergo the process of self-discovery - the cacoon.

I am enjoying the silence- and the clarity that comes with solitude and reflection. To be able to understand oneself amidst a larger context than “my life” has proved to be the antidote to many of life’s daily sufferings.

Creating

If we were to zoom out on history as far back as we could we would see that the same problems have plagued our existance since the beginning. The idea of war and of the survival of the fittest has been a part of our experience throughout all recorded history.

In today’s society you feel a pressure to protest things. To raise your voice and repost the instagram stories. But I just can’t help but think of all of history and how there have been protest after protest after protest, opposing sides acting as the fuel for their enemies cause and vice versa. Sometimes I wonder if it is our very participation in these matters in a way continues to fuel the problem… Just like in an argument amongst individuals. A bitter pill I’ve had to swallow is realizing that when there is a drama happening in front of me, it is only because I continued to return the volley over the net… each turn growing with more and more force and hostility between me and my so called enemy.

I find it an interesting stance that Mother Theresa took, to never participate in anti-war rallies, and only peace rallies, as she believed it was only helpful to participate in a positive message (creating) versus a negative one (tearing down). Negative actions tends to have a spiraling affect, until quite literally we are willing to end life in order to hold on to our point of view. In my recent years in Atlanta I saw situations turn from minor slights, to habored hatred, to ending life… all to be right in the end… and to hold on to our need to feel right.

Nowadays I hear people complain all day about the state of this world and about the evil of the “other" - the men, the women, the democrats, the republicans, the president and elon… i don’t even know anymore. just whatever the algorithm daily instructs my conviction to be.

The depth of what is happening to us cannot be understated, that we are further being disconnected from a genuine sense of responsibility over our real lives and the immediate world we live in… made to feel completely helpless against the circumstance of the “world” that is presented to us each day through our routine channels. Nowadays everyone presumes to knows everything, including the sum of an individual based on their instagram profile. It has become frightfully superficial.

One of the greatest lies that I believe has been the cause of such demise of societies over and over and over again is this idea that our enemy lies in anyone else except ourselves. It is only when we, on the individual level, begin to exemplify, in action, positive alternatives the very things we hate in this world, will we then begin to take steps towards a true healing. To break the cycle and open up new possibilities for the future other than the continued destruction of life.

I been asking myself recently. “what will you create?”

dejavu

I guess I just started to ask myself if I wanted to continue to live the same day over and over again. Recently I have been having a lot of moments where I’ll find myself in the same environment, same situation, same dilemma, maybe just the characters changed. The same feelings over and over again, and deeper than that the question: “is this where im supposed to be?”

Recently I’ve been feeling like my life has been on some sort of loop - the same everyday… though the characters and the content may change… pretty much the same. Patterns of thinking, habits, choices… repeating and repeating. And I’ve felt recently this urge to break out, to break something in the pattern…. to find different paths to different places.

There are things I have always struggled with procrastinating - dishes, cleaning the apartment, getting the oil changed. In a way when it comes to certain things I’ll always tell myself I’ll do it tomorrow. I’ve been asking myself, well what if “tomorrow” ever comes? since I continue to kick the can down the road. Is it possible in life, when we speak of reality and not how we wish reality to be, that we can delay things for so long that our “tomorrows” can easily and ever so subtly become “nevers.” As time flies by, it continues to reveal this truth, as we begin to realize that time continues to pass iregardleness of our decicioon or indeiciosn.

I felt like I woke up one day and began to ask myself, seriously, if I would like to continue to repeat yesterday… over and over and over again… or might I find, on the other side of decisive change, a whole new reality for myself…a reality I might like to repeat more and more.

It is alarming how easily it is to fall asleep in this world…. to be swept along in the great current of the concerns and patterns of contemporary life. And what do you do when you begin to realize that you’ve been saying “tomorrow” for so long that the opportunity loses patience.

Tonight I didn’t race to a bar after work and instead I decided instead to write this. I felt in a way, that I had finally lived that day enough times.

My Back Hurts

Today I took a hike. I took a trail down by the Chattahoochee river and I went as far as the trail would take me down. Further and further I descended into the wood, where the path eventually ended beneath the shade of a beautiful tree by the riverside. In this quiet moment I sat to take a rest. In the water at my feet I noticed a moth drowning in the water. The current had forced the moth to be stuck in the water against a tree branch. I bent down and gently gathered the moth upon my finger and brought it to a dry treebranch.

As if to gasp for life itself, the moth opened her wings. Its color a soft ivory with a single pin trip of bronze down the wings. Its entire fur body the same color of ivory, and its eyes the most subtle shade of red. Her wings may have been an angel’s, made of the most delicate and divine fabric, desperately trying to catch flight once more. I watched for many moments to come as she fought to spread her wings. Her wings would shake violently at each attempt. I could see them vibrating and shaking, as if she were giving her entire being to allow them to function again.

I sat and watched as she continued her attempts to fly, her velvet wings shaking against the spring winds. I was sure, because I had saved her from her fate, that soon the sun would dry her drowned wings and she would fly away free once again.

But in the end, after many moments of struggle… I watched, helpless, as she eventually jumped back into the river where she drowned and died.

After this happened today (it really did happen) I sat on the riverbank and wept. I sat there and shed about 1000 tears on the Chattahoochie. It wasn’t just for the moth, but for everything - all the truth, pain and beauty that this moth represented. The nature of life itself, of us - as fragile, drowning moths.

A few months ago I set out to do an entire series of blogs about Christianity. I had planned all these stories and topics that I wanted to write about - some serious and some more about the blatant ironies of modern-day organized religion (of any sort) from my own experiences as a Christian and Christian Artist. But as I continued down the path, one that originally I thought was going to be full of great stories, interesting topics, and conversation - I suddenly realized something… that I no longer had anything to say.

I felt like we could have gone on and on about the stories - the weird pastor stories, the subtle racism, the mission trips, all this stuff… but in the end I began to feel like it was becoming a futile conversation.

In the end, I realized the thing that I could never reconcile about the “God” that was presented to me was that no matter what I ever did - pray more, sing more songs, correct my life, do this, do that… flap my broken wings… it was never enough to satisfy who this “God” was. Despite the rhetoric behind this God being forgiving and unconditionally loving, I still never felt like I could actually please Him. So after carrying the cross for so long of my life… bearing the weight of unworthiness, shame, and an entire web of man-made and hypocrticial expectations to an abstract and always-moving destination…the haunting question began to rise within my own soul:

If God has already carried the cross for me…why then, am I still carrying this thing around?

And just like today, no amount of my intervention or best wishes could have ever saved the moth from her fate in the river. Is it also the same with God and us? That God may take us out of the waters and onto the dry branch, but in the end he cannot make us fly. Will we find that after all the clamor of our religions, idealogies and dogmas….that there is actually no one coming to save us? and that we are all simply moths upon the branch, being given the choice of the skies above or waters below.

The Blooms Crusades Chapter 4: "The Heart Shaped Booty"

**These are 100% true events that I witnessed and partook in from my time involved in the evangelical church from ages 14-26. Names of individuals, groups and institutions have been changed. **

I dedicate this to anyone who ever went to a 1 week church camp, whether it was on the beach, in the mountains, at the lake… It doesnt matter where it was…we are all united by one common smell.

If you are unfamiliar with church camps, let me fill you in.

In the Christianity I was involved in, it was not uncommon for your church or youth group to go to summer camp together for about a weeks time every year. This was always a super fun time because it’d be you and all your friends and you’d just pile onto these vans and buses and drive to God only knows where. I’ve gone to church camps at the beaches, in the mountains and in the middle of America and in very rural areas of Georgia and other middle American states. Sometimes these weeks would revolve around community service or philanthropy, in which we would go to communities and help clean a church or roof a house or something like that, then in the evenings there would always be services. The nicer camps had more famous and well known worship leaders and guest preachers, which I guess were a larger draw to the whole affair. I’ve been to some camps on the beach where literally entire strips of condos were booked out with thousands of high school kids from around the country. Those were insane times…

Each camp would follow a similar formula, where the peak of the emotional outpouring would happen around the 3rd or 4th day after we’ve been in the camp for a couple days. Everyone would always call that night “cry night” because typically there would be an invitation to accept Christ during a pretty emotional service and for whatever reason we would all collectively agree that that was the night to finally break down and renew your vows to God to be a better Christian when you came home. As a young Christian guy, this was the night you typically made another promise to God to never watch porn or masturbate again, crying out to God through a stream of tears that you were finally done with being a dirty little sinner. I never knew what the girls were always crying about, but if you ever were in a Christian camp and saw a young boy crying on a Wednesday or Thursday evening service about something, it was 99% probably about watching porn.

Today’s story about an experience I had at camp is as weird as it is hilarious. And as time has gone on it’s gotten weirder and more hilarious to me. So, without further adeiue, the story of the Heart Shaped Booty.

The Blooms Crusades Chapter 4: "The Heart Shaped Booty"

By the time I got to college, I was getting hired to be the worship leader at these week long summer camps for other churches. So, I’d go down there for a week and lead the music for the morning and evening services for high school and middle schoolers. The particular camp that this story takes place in was set at the beach.

On about the 3rd or 4th day, it had arrived. It was time to split the guys and girls off and have a good talking to these youngins about the worst sin of all time. LUST. In our leadership meetings about what was going to happen that night, there was no mention of who was going to lead the talk for the young boys, since there was no official male leader set in place for the youth group, so when we did finally split off, I had no idea what we were going to tell this group of high school boys or even what we were supposed to talk about. It was definitely implied that we were supposed to talk about lust and how we were not supposed to watch porn or masturbate, but there was no clear blueprint for how this conversation was going to go.

Lowkey I was preparing myself to start the conversation because the only people in any sort of leadership position present at the meeting were myself, my friend who came to play music with me, and at the time, the childrens pastor of the church who was there helping at the camp.

So we all gather on one of those square wooden dock-like things on the boardwalk going out to the beach. It was a somber mood cause I think everyone knew what was about to go down. So we all got situated on the dock, heads hung low in the salty breeze. I just thought, well, I’ll just go ahead and get this over with…

And Just as I took a breath to begin my shining pastoral moment, the childrens pastor began his ministry (Please keep in mind that this is about a 40 year old man at the time. We’ll call him Ross.) So suddenly Mr. Ross gets up before all of us young men and proclaims:

“YOUNG MEN, I WANT YOU TO GO OUT THERE ON THAT BEACH AND I WANT YOU TO THINK ABOUT THE VICES OF BEING A YOUNG MAN IN TODAYS WORLD. FOR ME, IT’S THE HEART SHAPED BOOTY. EVERYTIME I SEE A HEART SHAPED BOOTY OUT THERE ON THAT BEACH I JUST HAVE TO SQUEEZE MY WIFES HAND. NOW I WANT YALL TO GO OUT THERE ON THAT BEACH AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOUR HEART SHAPED BOOTY IS AND ASK GOD FOR FORGIVENESS”

And with that, about 20 of us young men went out on that beach and sat alone, contemplating the vices of being young men in the world. For me, it just made me think more about heart-shaped booties. At the time, such a concept wasn’t even in my paradigm. I just kept thinking, “what in the hell is a heart shaped booty?” I couldn’t even put the concept together in my mind. But there I was, staring out into the Atlantic ocean, praying to God to take my desire for the heart-shaped booty away from me.

And, while Mr. Ross’s intention for our time of solace and contemplation of heart-shaped booties was to lead us young men away from temptation, I can’t help but wonder if this forced contemplation of heart-shaped booties only further fueled my lusts in the time to come… as all I thought about on that beach was heart-shaped ass. For me, no forgiveness was found that night.

The end.

More stories to come. some long, some short, some serious and some not. just things I never really talked about.

Stay tuned for Chapter 5: “Racist Christian Superstar”

The Blooms Crusades Chapter 3: That Time I Discovered Cool Church (The Fate of Christian Celebrity)

**These are 100% true events that I witnessed and partook in from my time involved in the evangelical church from ages 14-26. Names of individuals, groups and institutions have been changed. **

Every time I post one of these blogs I lie awake and think “Oh God why did I open this entire can of worms?” I guess thanks for not coming to me with pitchforks and torches quite yet. I know religion is a touchy subject. It’s a very personal subject… but after all this time I feel least equipped to judge anyone’s faith, as I realized figuring out my own turned out to be enough work in and of itself… and as much as i cringe thinking about even setting out to write all of this stuff… in a way with each post I am feeling more and more closure within my own heart… letting go more and more with each confession. This process has helped begin the process of making peace with my experience…leading me closer and closer to forgiveness for all people including myself. It' has reminded me that I’m allowed to close a chapter whenever I choose, and that it’s more than okay to do so. I wonder if these writings have made some of you sad or disappointed… as maybe I was your youth group leader, or worship pastor, or “spiritual” guide at some point or another… but I hope you don’t feel that way, as I am neither sad nor disappointed in anything. Please hear that these writings are not necessarily an abandonment of my faith in God or belief in the existence of such a power… but more so an admittance of the great unknown. There are very few things we can know in life… and the rest is speculation and the continual perpetuation of stories and ideas. When history is a big game of telephone, which people killing each other (literally) for the position to tell the narrative… how do we find the truth?

The Blooms Crusades Chapter 3: That Time I Discovered Cool Church (The Fate of Christian Celebrity)

I remember discovering cool church when I needed to do a senior internship for my high school. One of the directors of the program was actually a mom at the church so when I presented the idea of the doing my “math and science” senior project on the subject of “worship music” nobody saw a problem with it. So when it was my turn to do my presentation I was trying to quantify in numbers and scientific terms the experience I had just had being a high school intern at probably the coolest church I have ever gone to. In church world there is like “sleek, suburban cool” which is you know, those high end churches with the many satellites and the jumbo screens and all, and somehow they all bought the same exact brand of chair, you know the soft brown ones that link together on the side?… but the church I interned at in high school was more like “raw cool” and had a very natural and spiritual feeling about it. I think I started interning at a very golden age for that church because even now I always remember there was a really powerful and real thing happening when I went there...Something you could really feel. People at the cool church were much more open about hearing directly from the voice of God and acting directly on it… whether that be raising your hands during a song, jumping up and down (which I later adopted as I leveled up), or going up and telling someone something about their lives or their situation… what I learned later was called a word from God.

This experience completely shifted my worldview and destroyed the old paradigm of Christianity I had built in the southern baptist church experience, which was much more conservative. I felt like I was learning that worshipping God didn’t have to be so “reverent” and could take on many forms. At the cool church, everyone was really young and also really attractive. I had never seen a real life fedora being worn at a church before, and not by the worship leader...it was insanity. I couldn’t pick the pastor out from the rest of the congregation because everyone looked 25 years old. It was like a huge hangout before the worship started, and then out of this sea of the top 250 hottest Christian 20-30 year olds in Atlanta, would come the pastor to preach.

For my internship hours I would hang out with my “mentor…” Who I realized later as I grew up that he was a young adult working part time at this cool church. He was probably around 24 years old. He was CHILLIN. I remember him and the other young adult worker girl openly talking about drinking the night before. My mind was exploded. Everyone was so… cool. I would show up and he would help me record a song in the studio, or show me different stuff on the guitar. The church had a whole music studio in the basement, it was sick. He introduced me to third wave coffee. There was one time he even took me up to Athens because I was about to go to college there. It was actually with this mentor from the church that I was inspired by the initial idea for all of my artworks to paint them on wood…It was a wooden stained painting installed in a lunch spot in Decatur he took me to one day. On Sundays I would help set up the church and run cables. That’s there I learned the foundations of audio engineering and live production.

One of the unique things I remember noticing about this church very early on was that it was in some ways “famous” around Atlanta and I would probably guess more areas. There was definitely a celebrity air about the leadership, musicians and the culture in general…certain names evoked a mythical aura that would induce murmors in the room. Everyone was super cool and super down to talk about alcohol, which was sick to me. I participated in their high school program at the time, which was probably about 6-8 kids… and one of the high school volunteers (an adult) shared a testimony once about him wanting to quit weed. My mind was incinerated, I couldn’t comprehend the idea of ANYONE smoking weed let alone a leader of this youth group, who was also WILLING to talk to us kids about it. Yall can make your own decisions about that situation haha… anyways the services for the church were at like 6 or 7pm on Sundays…and I remember thinking like “holy shit some people at this service are actually drunk. (sometimes I’d smell alcohol on people)” And then people were ripping cigs on the sidewalk. I was like what in the sodom and gomorrah is going on at this place??? My mind was absolutely blown. Please remember that I was saved into the conservative baptist church, where no one really even talked about anything negative at all…. just this perfect facade plastered on everything… smiles and all. Needless to say… experiencing the cool church totally opened my eyes in many ways.

The music, though, was on a completely different level. It was excellent, but also really raw. They werent using lasers & autotune like the other churches but I still think a slight haze… which never hurts. But everyone at that church could play their asses off and it was definitely understood in the greater atlanta worship community that not just ANYONE could play at the cool church. You had to have the in… you had to rip.. and back then they didn’t have a morning service they could book you for if you weren’t good enough for the main band. It was truly SHREDDERS only. Like if you didn’t own a “flight case” just go ahead and get the fuck out of here. I also remember sensing a hierarchy amongst the congregation itself… Idk its hard to explain. It just always felt like it “meant” something more to know certain people, or to have access to certain things, or even to sit in certain places. It was all very subtle, but very much there.

The church had a young pastor but then there were also these mythical father and uncle pastors that sometimes come in from other churches. The whole church was a network sharing the same culture and philosophy - including the music, programming and approaches to preaching. It was the first church I had ever attended that had produced and published its own music… which was revolutionary back then to me. I felt like it was really integral in my introduction to this church, since the first piece of media I received from the church was a CD of one of their live recordings. It inspired me to think about recording my own music and I thought it was pretty amazing that this church just down the street had its own bands and recordings.

Over the course of the next 8 or so years, I was involved with this community. I was continuously involved but just barely on the outskirts of its inner workings. I never would have considered myself a part of any major decisions there. I led worship there later, achieving my high school fanboy dream. I did conferences and retreats with them. I saw the church itself expand to its own new building and I helped with opening another location in Athens. in a strange way though, I also never felt I really “belonged there” in the sense that it never felt like my church… I performed a lot of functions there and knew a lot of people there but in a way I felt that it didn’t matter if I were there or not (and not in like a sad-me type way but its just the feeling I’ve always had there and it is what it is) but a lot of my friends went there and we led worship there together and it was mostly always a good time. The music was good, the musicians were good, the sound system was good, and the audience would jump around. so it was all good.

I saw quite a few of those musicians that I met during my high school internship going to to achieve wide success in the Christian music world - writing international hit songs and touring all over the world. Other leaders ended up renouncing their faiths later and going in completely different directions. We’d never talk about those people again. It was during this experience at cool church, which began in high school, that I was introduced to the idea of a famous Christian superstars, or even the idea of being “famous” for being a Christian. I met, in person, the first Christian celebrities there. And somewhere along the way, the seed that is a dream of christian stardom was planted in my mind.

The Fate of the Christian Celebrity

So, I know Christian celebrities have been around since Jesus’ time (lol) but I’ve stayed somewhat connected as far as following the the story arch of this particular brand of Christian celebrity unfold, that is the story arch that represents the culture of Christianity that I experienced in from my particular perspective in my particular time. My generation grew up with the idea of megachurch… we consumed music from multi-million dollar worship “churches”, brands, artists and “bands.” Every church that sings songs crated by the “big few churches up there” pays a royalty to fee that continues to pay (and enrich) these massive worship groups and artists.

I suppose when I say “Christian Celebrity” I’m talking more about the idea of one… the archetype of one… whether that is represented in an individual, entity, or movement. Or even how, in general, we’re obsessed with the idea of fame, Christian or not. Either way, as time went on… it turns out many of these so called faith “heroes” were anything but angels behind closed doors. You can go look it up… there’s documentaries and scandals left and right about this stuff. I came to find out that the band and the church that was my first worship CD ever given to me (the one that even inspired me to become a worship leader in the first place)… turned out to be raging alcoholics and also abusing the youth at the church. It’s one of those things where nowadays stories like these are a dime a dozen… that it’s like we don’t even have the capacity to grieve it anymore. It’s just normal now. Another pastor cheated. Another one stealing money. Another one touching the kids. Another. Another. Another. But when I think about all this stuff it’s really sad to me. Forget these rich famous people…fuck em… I’m talking about all the rest of the people out there to followed these movements, PAID A LOT OF MONEY to support these movements, spent time and energy volunteering for these causes, and ingested and replicated the cultures of these movements…all to realize later that this was all about them in the end.

But look at everything now… what was the fate of all of these ideals? Spiritual heroes? “People with the answers"? And while there really is no excuse, since everyone must answer to God themselves within their own conscious… I often wonder if mixing this sort of wordly idea of “success,” “clout” and “fame” into the framework of a spiritual system was not destined to implode from the very beginning? And what’s also strange too is that I don’t doubt that the beginnings of many of these fallen heroes was insincere. I was there, I’ve been there. There was a completely spiritual feeling and realness about everything. But I wonder if it’s just like a ship in the ocean, turning 1 degree off course slowly over time… barely noticeable… until everyone realizes its hundreds of miles off course. The culture (both within Christianity and out) slips under the temptations of power… what you can really get away with… one compromise after another until the base values beneath are completely different than what is presented…

But you know, yall, I’ve wrestled with this idea a lot. I’ve had to reflect on my own motives throughout my time as a Christian. And while sometimes my yearnings for God were genuine, there were many times they were not… just kind of learned behaviors, words, and sayings to basically do the right thing… or to “appear” to be in line with whatever the status quo of the culture was at the time, or to earn a place or identity in the community. I, myself, began to climb the ladder of “Christian notoriety” getting opportunities to travel, play larger stages, and write songs with and tour with some of the “Worship Leader Heros” from my youth. I guess in the end, for me, it started to create this persona that I wasn’t sure was me after all. I always felt there was a huge pressure to “be someone” and to make sure to not let people down or be too hypocritical (though that was impossible). The pressures of “platforms” and “titles” I think, looking back, created a mechanism in me that was unable to acknowledge certain flaws within myself… because these institutions and communities would always tell you you were a certain thing and treat you a certain way. And then you add the complication of recording and releasing music under these ideas, god forbid becoming a millionaire off of them. Even with my music, I’ve felt a really strange relationship with it over the last few years because I would never write or sing those songs again… even if they still are true to me in a lot of ways.

But anyways, I don’t want to traverse down that rabbit whole yet, one that we will traverse at the end of this series. But to wrap this up, I’m still thinking about everyone. Even though I don’t call “God” “Jesus” anymore doesn’t mean I still don’t reflect on and treasure certain aspects of my experience in the Christian faith. I just think… at least where I was in my particular time… we got really wrapped up in the commercial aspect of God… the culture began the pimp God out through media, “movements,” and the idea of “famous Christians.” We made God a means for our own satisfaction… the satisfaction of power and ego. And just like that ship… the idea grew further and further away from its original intent, and a culture was created that resembled little of what God actually may be like.

I am allowing myself to be free from the bondage that I need to “be” anyone in the realm of faith or even in this world. I came realize that the very same moment I ever considered myself to be “needed” by God, was the same moment I found myself completely off course.

Thanks for reading and stay tuned for Chapter 4.

NEXT WEEK: THE BLOOMS CRUSADES CHAPTER 4 “THE HEART SHAPED BOOTY”

The Blooms Crusades Chapter 2: FUCK THE CLARINET (How I Became A Worship leader)

**These are 100% true events that I witnessed and partook in from my time involved in the evangelical church from ages 14-26. Names of individuals, groups and institutions have been changed. **

Alright guys I’mma start this one off by saying FUCK THE CLARINET bro. You got me sitting here sucking on these “reeds” and blowing into this wood tube all fucking day. You gotta keep wetting the reed by taking it off and fully sucking on it in your mouth. After some time the reeds start to smell cause after you play it everything goes back in the dark furry damp case. Sometimes you’d open the case up and the whole thing smelled just like dried stinky fucking spit. You know what I’m talking about, that spit that comes out when you drool when you’re napping. That kind of smell. and the whole case n shit would smell like that. Then you’d had to wet to reed and suck on that old stinking ass reed. ON TOP OF ALL THAT the clarinet can only play 1 fucking note at a time so practicing with yourself sucked. You got no bass or ryhthm like you can get with a piano or guitar so you’re just by yourself in a room squeeking away these single note melodies on moldy stinking cracking reeds. Idk bro it just seemed like a lot to give for a little you know what I mean? when was the last time you thought to yourself, “hmm I wanna hear someone play the clarinet for me right now?” exactly my point. fuck the clarinet bro.

But anyways I was pretty good at the clarinet. I got second to last chair of the all-state band in 8th grade. Got my ticket to Savannah bro. 2nd to last chair clarinet is pretty much like a 5th string kicker on a football team. There was like 20 clarinets, I’m #19. They really could have cut the last 5 of us. They probably just had us there for a more balanced aesthetic look to the orchestra. I don’t remember being acknowledged by anyone that weekend. Even if I fucked up, played out of tune, it didn’t matter at all. This is quite “unamerican” to say but that experience made me realize that there was no point in doing clarinet if I was going to be 19th chair. even in the “best band” of the state I didn’t want to be the 19th chair clarinet… like bro it was too much blowing, spitting, sucking on this damn reed all day, just to “softly” play these “low notes” under the 1st and 2nd clarinets.

Who I really envied though, was those drum & percussion sons of bitches. They were the bad boys. They were cool man. All… back there in the back, smoking cigs and chillin. If you’re on the percussion team, you might have 1 note an entire song. To hit the Gong at measure 64, 1 time. It’s crazy man. But I loved the drums so much that in the mornings before school I’d go up to the band room and play the drum set. I know I annoyed the hell out of the teachers. The drum set was on wheels so eventually they agreed I could come in the mornings and wheel the drumset into another janitor closet down the hallway and play until school started. That’s how I learned to play drums.

How I Became A Worship Leader

By the time high school rolled around… I had to decide if I wanted to continue my career as a 19th chair wood pipe blower into high school. By that summer tho, I had gone through puberty and realized that I didn’t want to die a virgin, so I decided to part ways with the ole clarinet.

And then…I met Mindy.

I don’t exactly remember how I ended up going to youth group but I do know it was because of a girl named Mindy. I liked this girl so it was like yeah I’d love to come to this club and play ping pong and eat free pizza with you. totally down. But I remember that was the first time I saw a worship band. These dudes were playing ROCK N ROLL… for this man named JESUS. Who nobody could see! My mind was exploded. I remember the emotion of the experience and how it was really something I had never done or even thought of to do in my life. I remember we’d pray a lot but I didn’t know what that was. all i knew was that everyone was just supposed to shutup and take their hat off. I just did what everyone else did.

I continued to go to the youth group regularly because Mindy was playin games with me. I went for so long for her. It was always “It’s not God’s timing” but it REALLY was that senior Tyler she liked. He played football…and was a senior… what was I supposed to do for real? Anyways, I never gave up. we all became friends and it was a really special feeling I had at the youth group. It really felt like I had a place where I belonged and people were treating me with kindness & respect. Wednesdays became the day I looked forward to the most because I was gonna be able to see all my new friends and Mindy, and it felt like every Wednesday was one wednesday closer to Mindy finally listening to God and dating me.

all of my friends were in the youth band… and I really started wanting to be in the youth band. I think they had a need for a drummer at the time, so I had some of the skills from practicing the drum set in the closet. By this time I received my first Christian Rock CD by Hillsong United. one of their extended dual CD’s from the live worship concerts. I remember feeling how beautiful the music was… and you could hear everyone singing together. Interlaced were angelic keyboard tones, guitar solos, and talented singers. I remember learning the drums parts to all of those songs and wanting to audition for the band. At the time of my audition I felt like there were murmors of whether I was allowed to be in the band or not because I was not yet saved. But that didn’t last long and I was then on an official member of the SRBC Baptist Praise Band.

Our band was lit and regimented. We went out to eat every Sunday after church, then we went by the Ken Stanton Music store on Roswell Road…. hit cymbals, played all the keyboards, never bought anything. Then went to practice. We’d practice every sunday from 2-4pm for the upcoming Wednesday set. Wednesdays was SHOWTIME. I look back at these times and understand they were the foundation for my understanding of music as I see it. The sounds, melodies, and patterns in the music we learned is the base foundation for how I relate to music today. But we were really disciplined… we practiced every Sunday and performed every Wednesday and I we all started getting pretty good at music together. We logged hundreds of hours playing music and it helped me develop an ear for what was happening in music. We had a lot of fun together playing music over the years… we were turnt up doing battles of the bands and stuff like that. I loved those times.

battle of the bands

Sometime after i joined the band was my official conversion into the faith, my subsequent baptism, and then finally Mindy’s agreement to finally date me. I guess all I needed was a little touch of the spirit. After some years I started getting more into songwriting, guitar, and singing. Once I heard John Mayer and Jason Mraz it was a wrap. No more drums. I didn’t want to carry all that shit anymore and everyone blames your for everything when you’re a drummer. I’m singing from now on cause girls like singers.

In that environment, singers are called “worship leaders” as they lead the congregation through song. Through this avenue of music, I had some amazing and unbelievable experiences in beautiful & strange places alike…experiences I would like to share with you in the coming weeks. worship leading and worship music became a vehicle for me to go and experience other subcultures within the Christian world. Leading worship took me to white churches, asian churches, young churches, mega churches small churches, churches so old you thought you were leading ghosts. but most critically to this timeline - it was through Christian music and the surrounding culture that I was introduced to the one of the most powerful and ironic ideas to ever exist:

COOL CHURCH.

Thank you for reading Chapter 2. Please join me for Chapter 3 next week as we peer into the hierarchy of a cool church and the inherent dilemma that exists within the idea of a church being popular.

Stay Tuned: Blooms Crusades Chapter 3: “COOL CHURCH.”

The Blooms Crusades: CHAPTER 1: That Time I Accepted The Lord Jesus Christ Into My Heart

Hey everyone, so I’m not sure what finally has kickstarted this process for me. But I do know I’ve reached some sense of clarity about all of this which I am about to share with you, both in this blog and blogs to come in the near future. There was a restlessness I’ve felt for a long time regarding my experience becoming a Christian and then unbecoming a Christian later. There is a lot wrapped up in this entire time of my life… so many beautiful memories, strange memories, truths, lies and mostly the mixture of both at the same time. I wanted to preface everything by saying that whoever you are, I’m glad you’re here and I’m thankful youd take the time to read this. I’m coming from a place of needing to process my particular experience in the faith… and I’m wanting to be really careful not to pass judgement on anyone’s faith, beliefs, or practices. I believe that the “answer” we seek is neither on one side or the other, but possibly beneath all of these stories and experiences…I came to a place in my life where I had to make a peace with it all, accepting what was and making peace with myself to let go of it. The great deterrent for me sharing all of this, I realized, was the fear of what everyone would think and say… until I began to accept that no one really knows for sure what is going on… I realized that all of the truths that the institutions claimed to offer through their programs, texts & models could also be found within. Not necessarily withins ones self but within ones entire life. I began to see that God was much bigger than the boxes I learned to draw from the church. So over the next few weeks I wanted to write about my experience… share some hilarious true stories about things I’ve done and seen in the name of Jesus, & ask a few questions myself. I think it’d do me good to go through these things, and I know a lot of you have similar experiences… and i don’t know I just feel like it’s time to start talking about it. I hope that these writings help you have compassion amidst whatever experience you’ve had with religion or if you feel any way like me about all of it… and I hope that yall see that I still and very much trying to make sense of a lot of things from that time in my life.

CHAPTER 1: That Time I Accepted The Lord Jesus Christ Into My Heart

I don’t know what compelled me to start writing this tonight… it might have been that macchiato I had at 9pm… or possibly the fact that for whatever reason, I cannot seem to separate myself from the experience I about to share with you. I’ve had a lot of fear & anxiety about writing about this part of my life, or really talking about it at all ever again. I just thought I could go on with my life, change my lifestyle, and forget the whole thing ever really happened. But ultimately I couldnt. I think about it all the time… and honestly I’m afraid of what people would think on both “sides” of the line - to be judged by the Christians for not being a Christian, or to be judged by the anti-religious to have been brought up religious. I know there are people reading this both from the '“church days” and from days where that was in my past, or very possibly somewhere in between. I’ve been some of yalls menteess or mentors. I may have been your small group leader or your worship pastor for some time. Or, I may be your tattoo artist or just someone who you bought a piece of art from. All that to say, I’m thinking of all of you… and honestly I’m thankful you’d even care enough to read this…I didn’t want to write this to try to prove a point or to even pick a side… I realized after a while that I couldn’t. All I’m hoping from this is to be able to share my story… and hopefully if I can be honest about what I’ve seen and experienced I can find some meaning in it all for myself.

I became a Christian when I was 15, “accepting the Lord & Jesus Christ into my heart” on my own will at the youth group at Roswell Street Baptist Church. I started going to this church because I liked a girl from school who also went to the church. When I started going to the youth group on Wednesdays it was lit… they had ping pong, games, basketball gyms… and what was most important and eye-opening to me… they had a rock band. At the time I was playing clarinet in the school band. Don’t get me wrong I was playing the sheit out of that clarinet, even got a plaque on the school wall for going to the all-state band…. but the truth was I hated playing that damn clarinet. It was sooo NOT rock-n-roll. Think about it, who wants to play or listen to a song on a solo clarinet? NO ONE. Who’s favorite musician is a clarinet player other than other clarinet players? Which girl ever hung up a huge picture of a clarinet player on her wall? My point. So when I saw that church rock band I remember completely losing my mind. I had gotten it all wrong. I was meant to be a rock-n-roller.

As time progressed I eventually dated that girl I liked from the youth group. And I also eventually began learning the drums to join the youth band. I remember there being some considerations about my involvement in the band because I was not yet a Christian… but the youth pastor and the college intern at the time advocated for me, which I always appreciated. In the end I actually had no idea what being Christian meant or what everyone was really doing when we held hands and talked to “father” but I liked my girlfriend and wanted to be in the rock band so it was all good at the time. Some time later I decided to accept Jesus Christ into my heart. I remember thinking during one of the big prayer groups… that it was something I was supposed to it. It’s actually strange to look back on it now, I actually never have taken a good look at that moment. But I do remember in the circle just thinking that I wanted to live a good life and do good… and what was presented to me was this idea that accepting Jesus into my heart I would have hope for my life. So i guess could say on that wednesday night in that prayer circle, I became a Christian.

I remember this being a huge issue for my dad. I remember having to call the youth pastor and say my dad wouldn’t let me get baptized and then it became this whole idea of the “enemy” getting in the way of Gods plan for my life to get baptized. But eventually, I don’t really remember how, he came around and I was to be baptized on easter day. I was trying to find a picture for this post so I looked through my facebook and I didn’t remember that I had actually gotten pictures of my baptism. i mean, wow there it is. That was a happy Sunday… I had felt like I had made a very important decision in my life. We went to a Easter picnic at my girlfriends house after church. Everyone was giving me hugs and congratulating me on now having Jesus in my heart and life was picturesque- Easter in the suburbs… my soul was saved.

The next four years of my life were spent at the Roswell Street Baptist Church Youth Group, where I eventually moved from drums, to electric guitar, and ultimately singing… or what they would call in the culture: “worship leading.” We played a lot of music in that youth group… we had a solid band and a really close group of guys. We’d go on trips with the youth group like summer camps and camping trips and even competed in the battle of the bands at Kennesaw Mountain High School. I would describe this part of my life as my most intensely formative spiritual and moral years. The environment was conservative southern baptist, and it was within the context of this culture that my values, morales and much of my self-image were formed. It was also during this time where I developed an understanding of music and I believe because of the spiritual nature of the music, I was able to experience the power of music to shape beliefs, cultures and experiences.

In high school I was always conflicted. Because I wanted to do all the things that high schoolers want to do - mess around with girls, break rules, have parties, just be high schoolers… but since accepting Jesus into my heart I learned to view this as being of the “world.” I was to abhor lust at every turn, I was to never do drugs and most of all, most of all, I was never to drink alcohol. To be honest guys at the time I was a great Christian. I wasn’t pretending to not do all those things… I really didn’t do all those things. From the very beginning since being saved I was always in leadership positions - starting with the band as a worship leader, then onto becoming a leader in the youth group and so-on. So I always felt this pressure that I couldn’t let anyone down… and that because I was appointed by God for a higher position, I had to be extra good for Christ.

At the same time, my choices to start spending more time with the youth group coincided with a lot of tensions going on at home. Still to this day, I am not sure exactly how big of a catalyst me becoming a Christian was to what happened in my family in high school. All I remember is that becoming a Christian and the seeming implosion of my relationship with my father all happened at the same time. I never forget how upset my dad was that I wanted to get baptized. At the time I didn’t really understand what that decision may have meant to him. It has a lot of a layers. but as time goes on I think about it culturally, how becoming an evangelical Christian was a symbol of a complete assimilation into Western culture, and wondering how much my father could ultimately understand about this decision I made. In my mind, my salvation was the straw that broke the camels back, signifying the beginnings of my very complicated relationship with my father that still continues to this day.

Ironically though, it was the emotional and communal nurturing that I experienced from my friends at the youth group at Roswell Street Baptist that gave me a haven, or a home, away from everything going on behind our family doors. I remember the Ellis brothers and family were always there for me. They would pick me up in Alex’s tiny mustang to go to band practice every Wednesday, cause my mom would not be home from work to give me a ride. A lot of times I could walk to the Ellis’ house and they’d always let me stay over there. I considered the ellis brothers like brothers to me during that time… and despite where everyone may align with the religion now… I always believed that God was present in those times for all of us.

So, this was all essentially my introduction into the christian religion. the next 10 years of my life would be a journey though serving, then ultimately leaving this way of living and thinking. Today, I couldn’t think of anything else other than writing about this. It’s weird… I’ve felt this really strange block in my life… thinking it is having to do with the art, the money, or my “career…” but all along it might of been more to do with this. What is the truth behind it all? This is almost all of what is my mind these days. What is true? And it’s taken a lot of time for me but for whatever reason I started to feel ready to accept everything. To talk about everything. to express everything. To gather up all the parts of myself… and to hide nothing from myself or the world.

Thanks for reading, Andrew

Next Up: Chapter 2: “FUCK THE CLARINET”

Big Fish

The biggest fish in the river gets that way by never being caught. In life, there are many daily challenges, distractions, problems, hang-ups… that are trying to catch us. Our spirit, our resolve, our hope… challenged daily by the nature of life itself.

Over the last 4 years in Atlanta, I’ve built a whole world for myself through art, business, and gathering the community under the umbrella of the arts. I started as a tattoo apprentice and swam through many challenges along the way - setbacks, failed business ventures, haters, and backwards corporations. I didn’t do everything perfect along the way, but I can say that I never gave up on myself no matter what. I kept swimming to my next destination, whether that was my next tattoo, painting, or task that just needed to be done. Just kept swimming. I opened my store “Blooms Emporium” in June of 2023, and I began to go through the process of learning about business, sales and branding. I don’t like to talk about failures or just the general obstacles that are constantly needing to be overcome in business, but I know everything that I’ve had to overcome to get the business off the ground and to the place that it is now… I know because I was there… early mornings, late nights, constant work… everyday to keep it going and to continue growing. Running the business allowed me to travel to Europe to study and experience renaissance artworks, as well as Taiwan to reconnect with my cultural roots and to find inspiration from my homeland for the next chapter in my life as a visual artist and designer. Everything that has happened has led me to this point now, ready to bring something new to the world through all of these amazing and insightful experiences.

Is It The Fish or the Pond?

They say that a goldfish will grow in relationship to the size of the environment it is in. It is the same with Koi fish. The main question I’ve been exploring in my life recently has been this exact question: Is it the fish or the pond? What is the glass ceiling? Can it be broken? Is my life the size that it is because that’s what it is? or is it because of the environment I have agreed to inhabit? What are the true boundaries of my life? and what would happen if I did everything within my power to find myself in the biggest pond imaginable in my life?

This is the question I am setting out to answer in my show, “Big Fish.” I am taking all of the experiences I’ve had this year and just jamming them into this collection of paintings. I can’t say too much at the moment about this show other than I cannot wait for the world to see it (and I can’t wait to see what happens myself). I will be showing a completely new collection of works as well as a new collection of custom apparel that me and my team have been working on. The show will take place at Gallery Anderson Smith in Atlanta, GA and the opening reception will be on the evening of September 27th, 2024. There will be a VIP & Collector exclusive opening from 7-8pm, and the public reception will be from 8pm-11pm with a fashion show at 9pm.

To anyone who has purchased an original piece of artwork from me: you will be receiving an email invitation as well as a physical ticket for the VIP reception. Please be on the lookout! The public RSVP will then be sent to anyone who is subscribed to my email list, so please be on the lookout.

Dynasty RISES

In December of 2023, I opened my tattoo and art studio concept, “DYNASTY.” I had invested over $10,000, all the money that I had made from my Pokemon art show into opening this space. Unfortunately, the space that I moved into did not work out and I had to shut my concept down and move residencies after about a month of getting everything set up. This was probably my first great career heart break… but I just had to wipe my hands clean and move forward. I felt at that time I was supposed to just focus on Blooms Emporium, so I put the DYNASTY idea away in a box for a later time. But, as time as gone on, I am so excited to announce that I have a second chance to create the DYNASTY that I’ve always wanted. The space I have moved into is perfect! It’s secluded all of my itself with ample room for tattooing, painting, production and so much more. I’ve been spending the last week moving into the new space and getting everything together, and even did my first tattoo in there just the other night.

I am very excited about this space and to share this space with the world… so again, be on the lookout woooooo.

CHINATOWN MARKET 2024

I don’t know really how this happened but over the last 3/4 I’ve been telling everyone that our Atlanta Chinatown needs a breath of fresh air. After all this time and a bunch of random conversatios and experiences over the years I have been given the opportunity to curate a market that will highlight artists, vendors and musicians in the Atlanta AAPI community. The idea is called “Chinatown Market” and the whole purpose of the event is to give a space for artists and entrepeneurs in Atlanta to shine and also to bring attention and awareness to the Chiantown foodcourt, which I myself and my family have been going to since I was a young boy. My intent is to use my platform and my ability to gather creatives and artists to help generate business and forward motion for every party involved. Me and my team have just finished up the curation and branding for the event, and we’re set to announce everything next week. The market will take place on Saturday, August 24th from 12-4pm. Expect an eventbrite here in the next few days.

BUT YEAH….

But yeah but yeah… a lot is going on but it feels like not that much is going on. I realize now entering this new season of my life how much I’ve grown and how much stronger the last 4 years has made me. Constant work, constant improvement… one little thing at a time… then you look up and realize, wow, this is great. I am stepping into the purpose of my life, the reason for my existance… walking my path and continuing to discover that’s really going on here in this crazy thing we call “life.” Thank you for reading and supporting all of these little adventures I’m going on. Hope to see many of you at any of these great times coming… peace

Andrew

iris

So I’ve been having a lot of trouble writing recently. It used to be that I never really proofread or deleted anything, I would just write a lot of my honest thoughts and post them on the internet. A lot of people have asked me over the years how I deal with feeling so vulnerable in front of a lot of unknown people reading about what you think. And you know what, over the years I never really thought about it because I really literally never really thought twice about it. It’s just I figured, if I really believe something why not express it and see what happens, right? And over those same years, I feel like these writings have really reached people or at least presented people with something that’s at least honest and not a complete fabrication like a lot of this place that we now inhabit called the “internet.”

And I realized recently that I had lost some of that vulnerability. I guess I started to fear and care about what others thought. You know if you watch celebrity interviews a lot of them talk about how they can have hundreds of positive comments but they will be totally focussed on the single negative comment that someone made… most likely on a phone somewhere in suburban America. I always thought that to be interesting because you’d think they’re established, rich and famous… why would they care about these random negative comments? I began to realize for myself that as everything grew in my life, my career and my business, I started to fear that I would not say the right words or not appease a certain portion of my “audience.” I was struggling with writing my blog becasue I found myself writing and deleting and writing and deleting again just to try to say the “perefect” thing as to not be misunderstood by anybody… But at the same time I felt my voice weakening. I couldn’t write like I used to anymore. There was always someone in the back of my head… that wasn’t me.

But yeah yall, I’m done with all that. I figured that I can’t say the right thing all the time in the exact right way… but I can try to articulate my thoughts to the world. and I’m wanting to reach yall out there who do feel like me and have all these thoughts and questions running through your head. I want to talk about LIFE. My life, your life, our life… the experience of going through LIFE itself. This insane journey of “growing.”

I’ve just been through something. I have so much to say with my life. I’m going to work to find my voice and my message. I’m turning off the comments.- I’m sorry yall anonymous stalkers/weirdos just did too much I don’t want to think about yall right now. I’m just hoping whoever reads and sees whatever I’m about to write and do in the next season of my life can feel me - what pushed me onto this path, the wind of my life & my destiny. We will never agree on everything, but maybe if we create with enough conviction we may have a chance of getting to know each other after all.

So what if there was nothing left out there? Nothing left to gain…retrieving the potential energy of every moment. How much of our energy is spent on the past, which does not exist, or worrying about the future, which we can’t predict or control anywhere.

I guess this is what they call “focus.” Realizing a direction to go in life and just making the choice to go no matter what… the experience of finding yourself and ultimately learning to trust and know yourself.

Somewhere Else

Think back to a time when you were really young… there were times, in a moment of discovery, playing in the woods, building a blanket fort, putting together a Lego. I remember the feeling of a very few of these moments in my life - once felt when rearranging my room as a kid, wiring up my first computer microphone… figuring out how it worked. It was the feeling of learning.

As we get older in this world, we leave these moments behind. Suddenly, we wish we were somewhere else - maybe we wish we were more attractive, more wealthy, that we could post more Instagram stories for our so called “friends” to see (or be envious of). This feeling haunts our very existence, driving us into jobs…debts…and situations we never thought we could be in.

I’m beginning to realize how important it is to protect that feeling I had in my room getting my midi controller to get sounds coming of out the reason software, having “wired” that shit digitally but with digital patch cables you physically had to drag into hardware on the “back” of the plug-in. It’s the willingness to try - having no fear of being wrong because you haven’t yet been right.

Maybe before we ask about what to do next, to get to the next phase of this “prescribed happiness,” maybe we should ask instead:

“Do I wish I were somewhere else?”

they want you to make all the decisions in your life based on a metric, but what would happen if one based it on this feeling?

Plans

I want to remember this moment forever! I just arrived to Kaohsiung today, where my older aunts, other uncle and cousins live. We are in the coast so we just had the most amazing seafood from dinner that we picked right from the live pools. Talk about farm to table frfr.

Tonight I had to break free of family obligations. Any family, sorry if you’re seeing this haha, there are many questions I’m asking of myself right now and I need time to explore things without any reservation! Sometimes the best things come when you throw plans in the trash… and that’s how I like to travel. So after we got back from dinner I said see ya later alligators and went on a walk…and I think they thought I was just peeking around the neighborhood but I ended up on these couple trains and I’m out here.

I wanted to see this night market… which turns out is in this whole ass other place. But I took this entire journey here and the place was fucking closed lol. Then it started raining. So I just decided well I guess Ill just go home now like Forrest goddam gump and thought fuck it I’m just gonna go down this little alley. Ok so now imagine everything is dark and closed… I walk up to this door that just says “eternal” it was warm and still. I pushed it and much to my surprise this place was open… and this is what it looked like. Wow… I mean the music, the vibes, just tucked away all the at back here.

I’m writing this at the bar right now. Honestly I feel bad because the bartender had this whole secret place with this beautiful girl at the bar to themselves and they definitely seem to like each other…they was probably having a perfect night Haha. But now it’s the three of us lol. But hey look… the bro just let me hotbox the back room of the bar all by myself cause he prob just wanted to talk to his girl 😂 he told me usually no one can smoke in there but tn he was just like fk it…

So I ended up in the back of this bar, smokin it out and listening to music, It’s great times.

Plans

In my life I’m trying to find the balance of planning things out and having no plans at all. only when you fully abandon all control over your outcomes can you find the most serendipitous moments in life. The “upward” trajectory in all society is to gain more and more “control” over your life as you “grow up.” As a grown up you’re expected to know everything, to have everything mapped out and to never just be ok with not knowing. This is hardly ever how anyone actually feels but we just play along and put on the mask.

Finding this bar was important to me because I could have only found it if I wasn’t scrambling for yelp to take me somewhere else. I just figured, I’ll walk into here and something will be there. It sounds so small but so significant at the same time. Is life the exact same way? Are we missing something by making all of these “plans?” By trying endlessly to control our destiny, are we missing it?

When I left the bar I couldn’t help notice… just 3 monkeys sitting on top of each other ✨

The Fire: Mt. Keelung Taiwan Blog 3

Today we hiked a short section of Mt. Keelung on the Northern tip of Taiwan. We ascended the mountain one stone step after the other to the top of a peak that showed a breathtaking view of the East China sea and Keelung city below. The air was hot and completely still, and I was covered completely in a thin layer of sweat. Though the hike was short it was quite difficult, the stairs ascending steeply up the cliff, seeming to stretch on and on as you climbed.

During this hike I couldn’t help but think of a concept that I heard a Buddhist monk speaking about. He said that the higher you choose to climb in life, the more alone you will go… but the higher you climb in life, more of the valley will hear you. I’ve thought about this a lot recently in life… life a lot a lot… the journey of the soul, the inward journey, is much like this. Each person must decide how high they would like to go… But just like this hike we did today, the higher you go the more difficult it gets to breathe, your legs start to give, and it gets more difficult with each step. Sometimes looking upward at the inevitability of growing up and the growing responsibilities, complications, and challenges of life can lead to a total feeling of despair.. almost as if the best parts of life are continually being left behind us.

I’ve been spending a lot of my time trying to understand this dilemma… trying to find an answer to these feelings. Does my future only hold more pain & brokenness, and if so what am I supposed to make of this all? But this monk’s analogy has helped me understand the deeper meaning under it all and has helped me to begin the process of choosing my own path for myself.

The Fire

Today I felt this feeling inside of me… this fire. A desire for life… the fullness of life… to be awake to my own life and my life’s true purpose. I feel this fire burning away the distractions, delusions, and comforts that are keeping me away from what it is I truly want to experience. My true destiny. Why my soul is here on this Earth at this particular time for a particular reason.

It’s hard to explain, but I feel like my life so far has been trying to fit together this puzzle. Each chapter, each expereince, each detour… was just fitting one more small piece into this larger picture. To find your path, you must be willing to go through the process of finding many many pieces of the picture to put together. I look back on my childhood and my twenties… and how many things I have been willing to try at, to fail at, to experience, to be curious about… and in the moment though things have seem futile many times, I understand now that it was all just gathering bits and pieces of the puzzle. Eventually, the pieces start to form the image… something recognizable, real and tangible.

That’s where I feel like my life is now… the pieces beginning to form the image. AHHHHHH finally something I can recognize…. a context and a purpose for all of this.

I think about the monks analogy. I am meant to speak to the valley. I desire to speak to the valley. I’ve felt it my whole life, and now I know it. I don’t want to stop in the middle of the path, I don’t want to stop 3/4 of the way up the mountain. I want the view from the top. This realization has helped me to accept the challenges of everyday life… giving suffering its context. We go through things so that we may grow and be strengthened, so we may convert the energy into something to be sewn back into the Earth. Just like a seed.

This revelation has set me on a path of preparation for the times to come. I’m preparing myself to speak to the valley… to climb the peaks of my life and to finally see my life’s magnificent panorama. The process of life itself… being grown, formed and molded - open to the dance between the soul and the universe in her infinite wisdom and truth. I’ve accepted the lonely path… This is who I am and who I’ve always been… and now I know exactly what I need to do… which is to simply put one foot in front of the other.

I hope to see many of you at the top someday… meet me there.

Taiwan Blog 2 - Cardinals & 3's

In the weeks leading up to my trip to Taiwan, I was being visited by cardinals almost every day. It actually started near my birthday in March as a cardinal flew into a bush I was sitting next to while I was sitting alongside a river. At first it seemed like a coincidence but after a while, as the sightings grew increasingly frequent leading up to my trip to Taiwan, I began to understand that it was by no accident. 2 days before I left, I was sitting in the usual spot at Ponce City Market where I sit and take breaks outside. Above this bench sprawls a large tree that provides the spot with shade. I was staring up at the tree, and almost as if something had called the bird to me, a cardinal flew and landed on the tree. Typically they are so fast and fly onward but this cardinal stayed in this tree above me for about 2 minutes. I just stared at it, trying not to lose it. They say that cardinals can mean that ancestors or loved ones that have passed away are coming to visit you, and I started to understand them to be my grandparents and uncle coming to see me.

Time here with my family is bittersweet now cause in the back of my mind I know that I won’t be able to spend as much time with them in this lifetime as I realized I would want to. I find myself wishing that we could be closer and that we could have more time… but its just the way things are that I have grown up and live in the US while most of my family lives in Taiwan. In my teens and twenties I was a lot more concerned with building my own life, having experiences, and finding my individuality… but now I’m asking a lot of questions about where I come from and who I come from… I am cherishing this time… through the broken Chinese and English…as a moment to just share with one another and to appreciate the time we do have together.

There has also been a consitent occurance of 333’s all around me. When I landed in Taiwan my uncle treaeted us to breakfast… and the total bill of the very firrst meal I ate here was exactly $333 NT. By the way, this comes out to a total of about 10$US… meaning that entire group of 4 people ate (and ate fully) for a total of about $2.50 a person…. just putting that out there for all of us in Atlanta who are having to pay $25 for a burger and a side of cold, wet fries with a 20% gratuity automatically added to the bill… it’s just… different lol. Anyways, back to the point. Even today, we went to Taipei to see the famous Taipei 101… and low and behold right there in the shopping center we went to was a gallery called “Gallery 333.” Wow, something is speaking to me.

Today we went to temple in Taoyuan City just outside of Taipei. There was this incredible dragon fountain surrounded by 8 golden dragon heads. Inside the fountain was full of amazing and huge koi fish. My aunt and uncles took me into the temple and showed me how to pay respects to the Gods. I took some time to thank God for my life and just for life itself… In life we can get stressed and bent out of shape about many things, but when you just sit and think about the miracle of waking up each day it puts everything into perspective. I just be thinking like… wow there is a lot to complain about… but maybe there is way more to be thankful about. I’m here, I’m breathing and I’m growing… what else could I really ask for?

It was very special to be able to go to the temple. I felt something in here… something that is still very much with me right now.

After the temple we drove to the capital of Taiwan, Taipei, and we went up to the tallest building in all of Taiwan, Taipei 101. We got to see the city from the sky through their observation deck drinking Boba tea as the clouds flew by like dragons in front of us. It was a cloudy day, as it is a rainy season right now in Taiwan, but every so often the clouds would clear up and we’d be able to see the beautiful view of Taiwans capital.

I’m pretty tired today. We’ve been seeing a lot of things and I’m still getting used to the time difference. And it’s only the second day! There are definitely more stories to be told but I’m gonna go to sleep now. Talk to yall soon.

Andrew

Taiwan: Day 0

Hey everyone, it is currently 11:41pm in Seattle. I’ve got a few more hours until my final flight to Taiwan. Life is crazy, this weekend I spend finishing this painting you see here. I then woke up this morning, packed, and went to the airport. But yeah, I’m on my way back to Taiwan… it’s been 7 years since I’ve been back and that long since I have seen my extended family other than my mom & my sister. It feels surreal going back… something I’ve been hoping to do for a long time now. I feel like everything that’s been happening over the last few years with my exploration of culture through visual arts & tattoos has been missing this very key piece in the middle: Taiwan. It’s like I’ve been able to study everything through a very thin veil, absorbing and observing from afar… and now I will have the opportunity to see everything I have learned within a context.

The last time I was in Taiwan was a really emotional trip for me. I was trying to take care of family business between me and my father in 2017… many of the issues still persisting or even worse until this day. I spent so much energy then trying to make things right with him… I guess in the end the process is a lot more complicated than I thought. But even so, this will be my first trip to Taiwan without my father and everything that comes with him in the picture. I’ve spent a lot of my life feeling bad for him and myself but after all of this time I find myself detaching… allowing myself to move on and freeing myself from all the weight, pain and hurts that I’ve carried from what I have experienced in our relationship throughout my life. I am freeing myself…

There is No Cheese

I wanted to leave this painting up in Atlanta before I left. There are a lot of paintings that I have been trying to formulate for years in my head…. paintings that speak about my experience as an American, an Asian, and an ex-Christian. All of these experiences are so deeply woven within the context of growing up in the American South, and I think for a while I’ve been trying to find ways to say how I have felt this whole time. I’ve spent a long time trying to articulate these ideas through my art and for whatever reason recently, I just felt like it was time to stop waiting for the “right time” and just do it.

This painting, “There Is No Cheese” is about the American dream - all of these sold to us from the very beginning: pass 1st grade to get to 2nd, 8th to get to high school, high school to go to college, college to get a job, a job to make money, money to do ___________ what? And this is where it’s all at for me. Growing up in this world is like being born into a maze someone else built with the promise of the great prize at the end. But what they don’t tell you is that the prize at the end is created and controlled by the same people who designed the maze. Through media, celebrity and “culture” we are sold the elusive dream of riches, fulfilment, and status. But where do we go when we begin to realize that the thing we’ve been after this whole time never existed in the first place? How will we change our perspective, our use of our time and our values?

This is where I’ve found myself in this very moment of life.

I’m looking for the reasons to live that are beyond the surface now. I’ve realized that for me, there is no more cheese to chase… I feel fulfilled in the material world. I am content with what I have and who I am… and now I feel the questions and the desires begin to deepen.

I’ve set out to find the true “Land Of The Free” - the land of a free soul. I refuse to spend my life in this maze knowing damn well they ate that cheese a long long time ago.

Rockets & Cars

I realized that I am in a rocket and not in a car. A car has breaks, turn signals, roads, lanes… you can turn around in a car but you can’t turn around in a rocket.

I felt a lot of things when I went to Europe. I spent most of my time alone, I wasn’t in much of a move to socialize but I felt like I really needed to reconnect with myself.

I started to dig into this anxiety that I feel like has always been there. It’s a worry mixed with a hunger… just kind of wondering if I’ll ever “make it” whatever that means. But that’s when I started to realize that how I’ve chosen to live my life and approach my dreams and desires is much more like putting myself in a rocket and not a car. It’s been like that from the very beginning… there are no breaks, just an ignition and… off you go.

I’m struggling right now with wrapping my head around this idea that I’m not going back…I’m not looking back. It brings a deep sadness but a profound freedom. I realized at the end of the day there’s simply is no where to go back to… the journey has begun and is happening now. The thrusters have been ignited. The attention now is on the mission.

I shed a lot of doubts about myself on my trip. I don’t know… I feel like i just left them right there in the Louvre looking at all of those amazing paintings. There was a feeling. This same feeling I’m trying to describe with the rocket and the car… that I was already in the air and well on my way… and there really was no going back.

I saw that this was life. At least mine… and that it turns out there was no steering wheel at all… just a willingness to have pushed the button.

Paris Day 2

Some more time in Paris… I’m walking a lot… sitting a lot… painting. I didn’t realizing how much I needed some time away to just exist, eat, sleep and walk around without thinking about too much else.

I thought I would feel this huge rush of inspiration being here, and though of course everything is beautiful, I just feel really still. I’m thinking about the future… where I will go next or what I will do. Externally things are moving and expanding and growing, but in some ways I feel Stuck inside. Maybe stuck isn’t the right word, but just itchy. There are things I’m working on in my own life, those things you know you need to take care of.

I’ve realized over the last few years that there are steps in life that you can only take all by yourself. There are times and decisions that require complete focus and honesty, since you are the only one who can know your path for sure and what is aligned with your life. Friends and communities are important so long as they don’t cloud out what is your true voice, or draw you away from it. In the end, you are are responsible for your decisions and will need to live with how you’ve chosen to spend your life… there won’t be any time at the end to blame the people around you.

In many ways that’s why I wanted to come on this trip alone, far from the influences of anyone else that I know. I came to discover more of what is in myself and to bet on my own instincts and decisions.

I’ve been looking at all this art, all this fashion, and all of this beauty… finding myself in a place where I don’t believe there is a difference between myself and those who have their pieces hung up on the walls… I just needed to take hold of that truth and run with it. I’ve been thinking a lot about my business, and how much i want to learn and grow there… inspires by what I’ve experienced here and wanting to bring what I’ve seen back to Atlanta.

This is a picture of my apartment here, it’s tiny. This is a picture from the door. There’s a bed, kitchen and a shower right to the left of where I’m standing. It’s perfect. That little desk is where I’ve been doing all of my Paintings for my show Friday… my days are spent walking around, looking at art, adult snacking, then at night painting. I just finished up my session tonight with 3 peonies which I will mount to the scrolls tomorrow morning. But for now, I am tired… one more day in Paris tomorrow then I’m back to Frankfurt for my show and then the gods of ink Convention… can’t wait.

I’m tired… til tomorrow

In The Back of My Mind: Paris Day 1

11:44 in Paris, I’ve stopped to have a beer on the way back to my hotel. Today began with a flight to Frankfurt from Atlanta. From there I took a bus up to Retablo Cafe, which is the venue where I will be having my art show on Friday. I had about 4 hours until my train to Paris, so after scoping out the venue to lay out my plan and meet the staff, I went on a walk.

I went into a large cathedral. I love seeing the interiors, the paintings, sculptures and architecture… like it’s hard to believe that people at some point just built all that. With no internet lol… just blows my mind every time. Inside the cathedral they were playing one of my favorite songs of all time, “Claire De Lune” by French composer Claude Debussy. What’s crazy is when I left the cathedral, there was a man around the corner playing “Claire De Lune” on the violin. I just sat there for a while just being appreciative. Small graces.

My train was delayed to Paris, which caused me to miss my connecting train, which then caused me to miss my check in window to the Airbnb. Because of the delay I was hanging out on the border of Germany and France in a small town I can’t remember the name of, but they had a zoo right outside the train station. I didn’t go but instead opted to sit in a square and have some German beer and draw. After waiting I finally got onto my train to Paris and enjoyed a 3 hour sunset ride through the countryside.

The first thing I did when I got here was grab a hotel room, drop my stuff off, and got right on the metro to go see the Eiffel Tower. I saw the Eiffel Tower for the first time in 2019 and it was the first building I’ve ever actually gasped at. Just…iconic.

but as I’m sitting here, I’m just trying to take everything in. This experience, and the general desire to travel and share art around the world, has been just running in the back of my mind. With Instagram and artists or just any process in general, no one ever sees the real work we do. We don’t post the real work we do to make things happen. Showing up… creating… pushing yourself creativity… all of these happen on an internal level. The real work is never seen because you can’t even express that long of a process simply… it just takes time.

In 2021 I taped a picture of a scene in Europe on my wall in my apartment as a symbol, a target of sorts. Whenever id not feel like working, or feeling discouraged, or wondering what the point of anything was…I’d just look at that photo.

When it comes to goals, Sometimes it can feel overwhelming figuring how to get to points a to z… but the irony of it all is that everything is in the little steps, how you choose to spend your time despite what you want not being here yet. It’s more about small consistent steps everyday that eventually grow into what you’ve always imagined.

Despite what it might seem online I’ve gone through quite a few challenges over the last few years to continue as an artist - from rejections, failed attempts at ideas, burn outs, people with intentions to distract or discourage me… but in all of this I just had all of this in the back of my mind. I’ve tried my best to stay focused no matter what… to protect my dreams from this world.

and I am drinking a beer in Paris, just enjoying the moment.

Tomorrow I will begin working on my art show. My suitcase is probably 5 articles of clothing and the rest is paint, scrolls and all my mounting tools. I found a way to bring rice paper and scrolls in a trasnsportable way, so my plan is to go exploring around Paris and then at night paint and make scrolls based on what I’ve seen and experienced…

so stay tuned for the rest of the trip, thanks for reading :)