spring reflections, particularly on life's detours
Detours can lead to breakthroughs. My whole, almost entire, creative life and career had comprised of many detours. Taking an uncertain path almost always requires blind courage.
I think it was written in the stars that I was meant to become an artist. It’s deeply embedded in my lineage; my parents are makers - my dad was a tailor and my mom was a seamstress. Yet they were incredibly ashamed of both their professions. This shame gradually and intravenously made its way into me.
What they produced through their hands gave us a roof over our heads and food on the table at our modest, cockroach-filled apartment on Figueroa in Chinatown Los Angeles for a family of 7. I can still remember the sticky linoleum floors illuminated by flickering fluorescent lights and the toughest - my god - the toughest single layer carpeting you’d ever graze your feet upon.
So I didn’t exactly grow up, being taught or otherwise, that I should follow in their labor-intensive, yet creative paths. I was instead encouraged to attend a four year university (which I did), graduate (which I did), and commit to an endless ascension toward a lucrative corporate job (which I did, until I could not).
There is a common myth that artists are somehow, universally, from backgrounds of financial stability and privilege. I can assure you that I have none of that. I have no pedigreed network I am tapping into. I mean, I certainly wish. Who wouldn’t want a direct line to the likes of Larry Gagosian or Ursula Wirth? We can all dream a little dream.
But, in reality, it took me many incredible detours, which I am eternally grateful for, that prepared me for the artist path. Detours are essentially redirection. A pulsing urge that is triggered, when you’re on the wrong path, to recalibrate. In this past decade of my creative life and career, I had experienced more than a handful. I took on many jobs and various titles to carry me through - work that I loved and identified with at a certain point in life but didn’t have any lasting power.
I wouldn’t have built a knack for storytelling if it weren’t for my social media work on the first season of RuPaul’s Drag Race.
I wouldn’t have learned to acquire a thicker skin if it weren’t for my time living in the trenches as an account executive at the many PR firms I worked for.
And I certainly wouldn’t be the artist I am today without my past as a fashion, travel and lifestyle influencer.
If it weren’t for a timely detour brought upon by the pandemic, I don’t think I’d be standing in front of my first piece in a museum exhibition. I’d be lying if this path didn’t come with obstacles, of which there are many that I still continue to struggle with but learn from everyday.
So here I am, standing in the midst of other great, contemporary artists, inside the Pasadena Museum of History. I will never forget this moment. It made having to evacuate from the Eaton Fire and all that’s happened since a little sweeter.
Thank you for being here with me, every step of the way. I know many of you are artists or know of artists in your own families, circles, and communities. Reach out and give them or yourself a big hug. You deserve it. I love you all very much.
Sending my best,
Tommy