I know I’m an adult because December doesn’t excite me anymore. That doesn’t mean I’m a Grinch or anything, but it’s just another month but with more lights and fat capitalist men wearing red running around. Sometimes I wonder how we would explain this to aliens.

Today and I was sitting in my studio pretending I was being interviewed by a huge art program (this happens a lot). The imaginary white Anglo-Saxon host named Susan asked me to describe my creative process.

I would like to advise a few trigger warnings in this post to my readers. This has to do with sexual assault and harassment. If you’re tuning in to this post in hopes of some reading silly jokes, I’m sorry. What I want to write about concerns an incident that happened over a week ago here in my Atelier. I feel the need to get this off my chest because it’s been eating me up inside.

The previous 48 hours have been a bit rough. I don’t want to be a Basic Becky and say I got the blues because of weather and season changes. I’ve been blue. Don’t worry, I’m feeling much better but I do want to talk about it. For all you creatives out there who get in to mental rough patches, I want to tell you it’s okay.

I really want to take some time in this post to talk about my Dad. His portrait is more than just a random array of brush marks put together that end up resembling him. My Father is my hero, my inspiration, my number one fan, my everything. This painting taught me a lot about him and also a lot about myself.

So I’m rewriting this one because it’s been ages and the rough draft makes 0 sense. The reason why I’ve been MIA with my ramblings has been due to my second solo show. It happened and it was wonderful. If you’re one of the many who came to show Cabba some love, I think you’re a phenomenal human being and don’t ever change.

I woke up to an amazing email sent half way across the world. Turns out someone is writing about/researching me for their high school project all the way in the states. If you’re reading this, I can’t promise you that my nonsense will get you an amazing grade but you made my week. This is just the first of many instances this will happen in my life.

I really want to say how much I enjoy the misspelled spam comments I receive on these posts. Don’t you have mad money, Viagra? Yet no one can properly spell your product name. Anyways, these are the type of things I pay attention to both in and out of the studio. The other wacky ideas that go through my head consist of how I can infect google search engines with my nonsense and how much money I can make setting up a Ketchup + BBQ flavour chip cartel here in Paris.

I figure this is a perfect time to write this since I’m expecting visits today and I’m ridiculously tired. There’s a high chance that not much painting will be happening. The exhaustion is rooted with the fact I didn’t take a “vacation” this summer as I hoped. Plans change and that’s just how the game goes. I am the type who has a social battery, so I might hold off on work so I can coast through visits and not come off as a zoned out douchebag.

This post is very relevant the my future plans regarding self portraits. As of today, I have 35 self portraits in the bank. Rembrandt has close to 100. He’s dead and I’m 27 so I think I can top the Dutch mirror loving master. That’s a pretty fair goal if you ask me. Work so hard that your idols become your rivals. I don’t know who said that, but it sticks with me.

I’ve been on a self portrait binge for 2 weeks now. You’d know if you follow my social media or anything with my name attached to it. In between all the intimate time spent looking in the mirror, Shelby has progressed. It’s been a while since I’ve mentioned or posted any pics but I like keeping it a surprise.

This is the first year I haven’t celebrated or mentioned Canada Day on my own terms. Not because I hate my country, but because there’s a lot of shit happening behind the image of our handsome prime minister. It’s been a violent 150 years towards the indigenous people of Canada. They’re the real Canadians and we aren’t treating them fairly. The suicide rate is through the roof among native youth and we have passed the 1000 mark for missing and murdered indigenous women.

Your favourite painter is now 27. I’ve been really exhausted for a few days and I think it’s because I’ve decided to quit coffee. I don’t know why I’ve made this horrible decision but I’m drinking hot leaf juice instead.

Do old paintings function the same way we see throwback jams from the 90s/00s ? While thinking about the subject of social media and how it impacts my work, I feel I constantly need to produce. Making things isn’t an issue, but I feel after I make something everyone forgets what I made within 24 hours.

It’s funny how when I get close to vacation time that I discover more and more routes to travel forward with concerning painting. Ideas grow and start to feel like hunger pains when you can’t act on them. As frustrating as it might feel, the good news is I’m not stagnate. The world I’ve created for myself is growing. What I might do is start to prep everything I need so I can hit the ground running when I’m back.

I’m in a very Brut state of mind these days. My thoughts have been preoccupied with evolution and risk taking when it comes to the series. I feel very slippery talking about if these recent three are successful or not. I’ve always stood by the theory that it’s the artist’s responsibility to create and let the rest of the world decide. While all of you are critiquing, I’m on to the next piece. If you do think about it, I am helping out all the upcoming art historians out there. I’m creating jobs. You’re welcome.

So this post took a while and Happy May Day or whatever it is that’s being celebrated today. All the stores are closed and I have a fever making me quite peachy. Since I’m sick, I’ll take this as a sign that I should sit down and write something on here. The previous two weeks have been a bit all over the place. Last post was about listening to your body and I did. Being an artist isn’t just about pulling a 9-5 in the studio every single day. As cliché as this next bit sounds, it is part of our job description to live.

As someone who works independently, my advice to you is to listen to your body. I love going into the studio every single day, but you have to know when you’re going to be productive. The major sign I get is when I start to clean/rearrange my studio.

Been exciting week for me here at HQ. I’ve decided to refer to my Atelier as that until I stop binge watching action movies on Netflix. Work has been going well and I’m now acting as a portfolio coach for a friend of mine. Teaching your bullshit is a great way to test if you really understand your bullshit.

We made it to the 25th segment of these blog posts. I remember all the old Studio Confessions back in the day but those were nonsense. 98.5% temper tantrum sounding rants about me, myself , and I. Thank who ever you believe in for growing up. Another beauty of being an adult is that I’m multi tasking as I write this. I’ve been on hold with the Parisian house of artists who really are testing my patience. You could say I’ve been prepared for this moment of rude operators and long wait times in order to receive more immigration work. Instead of roasting the entire system on here, I look at my atelier and tell myself it’s all worth it.