Hard Lesson #1

And Other Weird Things I Do

Hard Lesson #1 (2024): The Time My Body Said "Nope"

Ever had your body straight-up betray you? Like, ignore-every-warning-sign, push-through-anyway, and then BAM—reality check. Hard.

I’ve always been someone who keeps going, no matter what. Pain? I’ll push through. Exhaustion? I’ll sleep later. Burnout? What even is that? But last year, my body pulled the emergency brake, and I had no choice but to listen.

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🎨 Enter: “Painter’s Elbow” (a.k.a. My Arch Nemesis)

A while back, I wrote about what I call Painter’s Elbow—which I’m pretty sure is just Tennis Elbow with an artsy rebrand. (Anyone who’s had Tennis Elbow, let me know in the comments if it's the same thing.)

Point is, for a little chunk of 2024, I couldn’t paint. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t even lift a cup of coffee without pain.

It would start in my wrist, shoot up past my elbow, and make using my right hand impossible. And let me tell you—dictating my words onto a screen? Not. The. Same. And definitely not a substitute for painting.

But here’s where things got interesting—I didn’t accept it as the end. I adapted. Resilience is a muscle, and I’ve been training mine for years.

So I did something both humbling and hilarious—I taught myself to use my left hand.

✅ Brushing my teeth? Hilarious.
✅ Eating? An Olympic-level challenge.
✅ Turning on the faucet? My sleeve is constantly soaked.
✅ Driving my Jeep? Not happening. It’s a manual, and I like living.

But I kept at it because I knew it was possible.

Years ago, I worked on a touring set for the biggest male singer of 2023. I spent three months using an HVLP gravity-fed sprayer, and by the end of the first month, my right arm was so buff I had to switch to my left just to even things out.

So, I knew I could train my brain to shift. It just takes work, patience, and a lot of accidental messes.

Here’s something I didn’t mess up. A commissioned piece of this cute little doggie!

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🚨 Hard Lesson #1, Take 2: Welcome to 2025 (Now Featuring Vertigo!)

Fast forward to this year—new year, new me, new… Vertigo.

Yep. February rolls in, and suddenly, I can’t stand up without the world spinning like I’m in some carnival ride I did not sign up for. And unlike an elbow injury, you can’t just switch hands to fix your inner ear.

Vertigo is the ultimate five-stage clinger. No matter what maneuver I try, she’s sticking around.

And let’s be real—I could’ve seen this coming.
I could have rested more.
I could have listened to the signs before they became screaming sirens.
I could have slowed down before my body forced me to.

But instead? I did what I always do—I pushed through.

Because when your entire livelihood is about creating—painting, writing, working on set—you don’t stop. Even when you probably should.

This is me working on the set of “A League of Their Own”. This is where I see the light.

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🌀 The Spiral Staircase of Life

Here’s something I keep reminding myself: life doesn’t move in circles—it moves in a spiral staircase.

Sometimes, it feels like we’re repeating the same lessons, making the same mistakes, facing the same struggles. But really, we’re moving up.

At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. Because this time? I’m actually listening.

This time, I’m not pushing through. I’m letting myself rest. Mostly because I HAVE to.

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Have You Been Here Too?

Have you ever ignored your body’s warnings and regretted it later? Have you pushed through pain, exhaustion, burnout—knowing full well you shouldn’t?

Why do we do this ourselves? I mean, we have this whole system (our body) which works wirelessly and tirelessly to keep all the organs, cells, tissues and everything else, going.

I think about this a lot. I wonder if it is because of the pace of Americans. Am I waging a holy war here. Shit. Never mind.

I made this shirt. Wonder Why woman is my superhero name. I had to represent.

Maybe it is because we were not taught to honor our bodies when we were younger. IDK about you but I flung myself into inanimate objects quite frequently. Taking risks on skateboards, bicycles and staircases.

Tell me I’m not alone in this. Let’s swap battle stories in the comments. I’ll go first, I fractured my skull at two years old AND it was Christmas Eve. Okay, so know you know why I am bit touched and where my “Skewed” comes from. 🤪😂

Anyways, all I am saying that your body does give you clues and it’s important to listen to them. Like, before something happens.

And if you’re in the middle of your own forced slowdown, trust me when I say—there’s a reason for it. Sometimes, your body knows the truth before your mind does.

Lesson learned. Level achieved.

This time, I’m resting. Which is good because it gives me a greta excuse to sit still and finish my first podcast episode coming up at the end of March! I am super psyched to talk stories instead of just writing them.

Until next time… 🚀