Luckily I am typing this at my girlfriend's house, her family understands, so I have a place to crash....
But anyway, I thought I'd give a little story about the downs of this summer, maybe venting a little will help me feel better.
Anyway, Moments ago, I just brought in my last bag to my girlfriends house, the 5th one, of my belongings. Aside from my cramped single room I have stuffed whats left of my belongings in davis, I no longer have a home. I felt embarassed coming inside sobbing, but it's not much of a choice I guess.
you see, Both of my parents were artists, my mom, Jayne was infamous in chicago, for starting a breakthrough in the artistic world upon her graduation from art school in chicago. She was one of the few that "made it big" which, if you are an artist (specifically a painter), is nearly impossible. However, for an unmentioned reason (non violent, nor immoral), Her records were destroyed, and all evidence of her prevailing, breakthrough of art was abandoned. Thus probation sent her to california to literally start over.
If you follow the art scene, you would recognize that different areas have different trends, and sometimes dont take welcome to others, especially back in the day. Her style was not accepted as well, so decided to switch fields, and hybrid her talents. (skip some time).....
When she met my dad, she was a chief designer for a well known Sign company. literally she met my dad, by critizising his work, and my dad being the funny fellow he is, turned it into a joke, and asked for a date. I guess they hit it off.
my dad grew up in hundreds of different places, being an artist every step of the way. but finally he settled in los angeles at 16 yrs old. graduated high school in 69. and the moved straight to SF for the summer of love.
(fill in the blanks)...
Anyways, my parents claim to fame is designing the Jambaaa juice signs, and logos for the company when they started. MY mom was an AVID bmw fan. she had a 530 wagon, 5 speed, which she would do burnouts, speed, etc. you name it, and she literally always talked about how she dreamed of having a 2002. Guess thats where I got it.
By the time I was 11 we heard the news of her cancer, and by the end of the year, and 1 remission + 2 allergic reactions later my mom passed away of enemal carcinoma, lung cancer.
by the time I was twelve I was already doing tons of drugs, and getting in a lot of trouble, hanging with the wrong crowd. After some more negative events, an a failed attempt at suicide, you could say I prevailed.
(I become a wrestling Phenom here, and cut habits here)......
during the past november of the last year, we heard some similar news that was nearly as powerful as losing your parents. My Dad, neglected to help me do anything really, except pick me up from emergencies, and get me to school on time. In essence, I raised myself, (no exaggerations here)100% entirely on my own funding, efforts, and perserverance. running marathons for money isn't very fun. However, I credit my dad for shaping my character, humor, and ease of finding positivity in the littlest of things. yet, my sister, wasnt so lucky to be so independent. after applying to college, she had my godmother help her with the financial efforts. Well, she discovered that my dad had been hiding 6 figure debts, and was lying through his teeth to everyone he knew that he was in trouble. Within 6 weeks we would lose the house, everything we own, etc. So she devised a plan to short sell our house. but it wasnt that easy. My dad was low key hoarder, and wiht all our property it was a shit ton of work. 3 weeks of hard labor with 8 people for 12 hours, finally made our house presentable enough for sale.
Where it gets tough, is that this was a million dollar piece of property, on the end of a street with hundreds of miles of open space in marin as the back yard.... in which I was raised in, have extensive memories, as being a social center for our school, multiple parties, numerous virginities, and fights, and friends were made and lost there. so It was a huge part of our community I guess.
Im literally crushed now, not only because I no longer have a home, but the housing of my memories, the fact I have to pay my dads credit debts, could have all been avoided. now all im left with is my poor cat, a cramped up room, and not even all my belongings, which I was forced to sell to pay for the debts, including my 58 nash metro (my first car).
Leaving my house was tough, seeing my poor cat, wander around the empty space, looking at all the empty rooms, which were once decked out in the best paintings my parents had collected from their lives.including their own personal pieces. Every wall was a different bright color, every beam, every brick, an elaborate work, murals on the walls of each room. furniture that my parents made, all. gone.
Ive been coping with it all by just researching turbocharging, and building the 2002, and the e30 up. keeps the demons at bay I guess (with the spirit of my mom as well). I can say I have maintained a positive attitude for the most part, but I can hardly look back at what has happened with all my built up anger for all that is lost. and to know I can never live in that location again, really is heartbreaking.
If I were to go into the details of how scary this whole process was, and what was happening behind the scenes, you'd probably shit bricks, but I left a lot of shit out.
I decided to keep it less emotional (the post) because sometimes, I can write some powerful shit, which may be inappropriate at times. so Ifigured Id do a low key vent.
Cliff notes:
-Dad lost our house, which was an un-replaceable house, in an unreplaceable location.
-little Sister moved to indiana to get as far away as possible
-now Im at girlfriends house, so I can finish building my car (here in san rafael), and try to settle into my cramped forced living space in davis.
-its hella sad.
Ill post up some pictures too....
But anyway, I thought I'd give a little story about the downs of this summer, maybe venting a little will help me feel better.
Anyway, Moments ago, I just brought in my last bag to my girlfriends house, the 5th one, of my belongings. Aside from my cramped single room I have stuffed whats left of my belongings in davis, I no longer have a home. I felt embarassed coming inside sobbing, but it's not much of a choice I guess.
you see, Both of my parents were artists, my mom, Jayne was infamous in chicago, for starting a breakthrough in the artistic world upon her graduation from art school in chicago. She was one of the few that "made it big" which, if you are an artist (specifically a painter), is nearly impossible. However, for an unmentioned reason (non violent, nor immoral), Her records were destroyed, and all evidence of her prevailing, breakthrough of art was abandoned. Thus probation sent her to california to literally start over.
If you follow the art scene, you would recognize that different areas have different trends, and sometimes dont take welcome to others, especially back in the day. Her style was not accepted as well, so decided to switch fields, and hybrid her talents. (skip some time).....
When she met my dad, she was a chief designer for a well known Sign company. literally she met my dad, by critizising his work, and my dad being the funny fellow he is, turned it into a joke, and asked for a date. I guess they hit it off.
my dad grew up in hundreds of different places, being an artist every step of the way. but finally he settled in los angeles at 16 yrs old. graduated high school in 69. and the moved straight to SF for the summer of love.
(fill in the blanks)...
Anyways, my parents claim to fame is designing the Jambaaa juice signs, and logos for the company when they started. MY mom was an AVID bmw fan. she had a 530 wagon, 5 speed, which she would do burnouts, speed, etc. you name it, and she literally always talked about how she dreamed of having a 2002. Guess thats where I got it.
By the time I was 11 we heard the news of her cancer, and by the end of the year, and 1 remission + 2 allergic reactions later my mom passed away of enemal carcinoma, lung cancer.
by the time I was twelve I was already doing tons of drugs, and getting in a lot of trouble, hanging with the wrong crowd. After some more negative events, an a failed attempt at suicide, you could say I prevailed.
(I become a wrestling Phenom here, and cut habits here)......
during the past november of the last year, we heard some similar news that was nearly as powerful as losing your parents. My Dad, neglected to help me do anything really, except pick me up from emergencies, and get me to school on time. In essence, I raised myself, (no exaggerations here)100% entirely on my own funding, efforts, and perserverance. running marathons for money isn't very fun. However, I credit my dad for shaping my character, humor, and ease of finding positivity in the littlest of things. yet, my sister, wasnt so lucky to be so independent. after applying to college, she had my godmother help her with the financial efforts. Well, she discovered that my dad had been hiding 6 figure debts, and was lying through his teeth to everyone he knew that he was in trouble. Within 6 weeks we would lose the house, everything we own, etc. So she devised a plan to short sell our house. but it wasnt that easy. My dad was low key hoarder, and wiht all our property it was a shit ton of work. 3 weeks of hard labor with 8 people for 12 hours, finally made our house presentable enough for sale.
Where it gets tough, is that this was a million dollar piece of property, on the end of a street with hundreds of miles of open space in marin as the back yard.... in which I was raised in, have extensive memories, as being a social center for our school, multiple parties, numerous virginities, and fights, and friends were made and lost there. so It was a huge part of our community I guess.
Im literally crushed now, not only because I no longer have a home, but the housing of my memories, the fact I have to pay my dads credit debts, could have all been avoided. now all im left with is my poor cat, a cramped up room, and not even all my belongings, which I was forced to sell to pay for the debts, including my 58 nash metro (my first car).
Leaving my house was tough, seeing my poor cat, wander around the empty space, looking at all the empty rooms, which were once decked out in the best paintings my parents had collected from their lives.including their own personal pieces. Every wall was a different bright color, every beam, every brick, an elaborate work, murals on the walls of each room. furniture that my parents made, all. gone.
Ive been coping with it all by just researching turbocharging, and building the 2002, and the e30 up. keeps the demons at bay I guess (with the spirit of my mom as well). I can say I have maintained a positive attitude for the most part, but I can hardly look back at what has happened with all my built up anger for all that is lost. and to know I can never live in that location again, really is heartbreaking.
If I were to go into the details of how scary this whole process was, and what was happening behind the scenes, you'd probably shit bricks, but I left a lot of shit out.
I decided to keep it less emotional (the post) because sometimes, I can write some powerful shit, which may be inappropriate at times. so Ifigured Id do a low key vent.
Cliff notes:
-Dad lost our house, which was an un-replaceable house, in an unreplaceable location.
-little Sister moved to indiana to get as far away as possible
-now Im at girlfriends house, so I can finish building my car (here in san rafael), and try to settle into my cramped forced living space in davis.
-its hella sad.
Ill post up some pictures too....
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