A friend and colleague of mine, the beautiful Ms. Katie Stein over at Vaka Design made a post that really struck a chord with me. This post was discussing basically how much of your personal life should be privy to the e-world when you are a blogger. This post prompted me to leave her a novel of a comment, which lead to more conversing on the topic. It made me take my own site and web presence into perspective.

Now, granted, Katie has children that she also has to consider, but I, I have myself. I’m a young, single, sometimes vulgar chick, and I don’t hide that fact from most people. I draw naked ladies, for pete’s sake! If my blathering on my blog turns controversial or I say a little too much in my Tweetstream, who am I hurting? Only myself, but that is only if whoever comes across my site is offended or put off. And if someone is here looking to potentially hire me, well, hello! Enjoy the naked ladies and somewhat filthy talk. It’s all in good fun, and that’s me. Take it or leave it. But most people love it.

As an artist, I believe we have a different level of professionalism to uphold. Yes, we know how to be cordial, put together, and conduct business, but we don’t sacrifice our eccentricities or quirks, either. Our personalities are part of what fuels our work, so if we don’t feel free to embrace ourselves and share it with the world, what message are we sending? We are our work. A fellow artist once told me that each piece is a self-portrait, and I concur.

And while I hope that nothing I say or do is off-putting, I’m not going to censor myself so I am loved by more. I am who I am, and I have no apologies.

It’s been seven years.

Seven years since I first found out that something was wrong with me. Seven years since a tumor exploded in my head, causing me to have the most intense headache you can even imagine (or could you?) and the whites of my eyes to turn pink. Seven years since I started down this medication fueled trail that I’m still hiking up and down. Seven years since my bad luck started.

In those seven years, I have had nothing but more and more bad news, obstacles, and punches to the gut, but I’ve managed to make it through, smiling and optimistic, but seven years is a long time to keep that smile tacked on your face. It was beginning to sag, beginning to wear thin.

But, it’s been seven years, and I feel it in my bones that my bad luck is running out.

I’m not a strong believer in astrology, but I do dip my toes in that pool for shits and giggles every once in a while. Last year, I was casually perusing a horoscope book for Pisces in 2010. One of the first pages that I flipped it open to said: “The events of the past seven years are coming together to reveal their meaning, providing you with a greater sense of purpose and hope for the future.”

I bought the book.

Since then, I’ve been paying slightly more attention to my horoscope, analyzing it a bit more than I have in the past. More and more things tend to stick out and fit perfectly into my puzzle of a life, but I still just tuck them away as funny little coincidences.

I’ve come to find that there are a lot of coincidences in my life, and I embrace that, but it drives me crazy. I have begun to find miniscule little coincidences in the strangest and most obscure places, which are probably just the making of my overactive imagination. I fear that I’ve begun to lose my grip on reality, lose my rational state of mind. I fear that I’m sinking deeper into my dreamworld. That typical Pisces dream land.

At the same time, I feel more real now than I have in the past few years. I have felt like I lost my sense of self over the past two or three years, and it was beginning to depress me. Everyone around me that I care about is growing up and moving on, leaving me to do the same. New people have come into the picture, and I’ve felt more alive and motivated than ever before. I feel like a teenager all over again, but at the same time I feel like I’ve matured into the beginning of the woman that I aspire to be.