Chapter 1 - The beginning
*From Hera's perspective*
"To put it frankly my life has been chaos. From the moment I was born up until this very day." I look around at everyone before me, I was shocked to see so many people turning up to my gallery opening. Taking a moment, I continue my speech. " As some of you may know, I use my art as my escape, much like most of you here today. Most of us chase after dreams, hoping one day we will grasp what we want. We take moments for ourselves..." Some people nod. "We say we take moments for ourselves: go for a walk, read a book, hang out with friends or go to therapy. But in reality, we don't! We don't HEAL. As a society we are pushed to work as hard as we can for as long as we can. To take a weeks holiday a year, and we are conditioned to think this is okay! Well its not. I use my art to express my freedom as a person, as a human with feelings. Please take a look round and discuss with your friends, or even a complete stranger what my art makes YOU feel. What it makes YOU think."
As I finished my speech, I felt this wave of relief wash over me. Finally after 18 years on this planet, I have managed to make a part of my dream come true. Seeing all these people, some I know, and some I don't, move like ants around my gallery, looking at all my art and discussing amongst themselves. Its a strange feeling, seeing so many people appreciate the art that you have poured your heart and soul into.
For a long time, people around me have always said "get a real job"or "art won't make you money". The thing is, I don't care about the money, I make things because I feel. All my art is made from emotion. When I left school at 16, I worked 60 hour weeks in a supermarket, scraping together half my earnings into a savings pot. I will forever be thankful to my friends for letting me sofa surf. And with the money I saved, I put a down payment on this shop, now my gallery. It even has a little flat upstairs! Kind of why I bought the place.
For as long as I have been alive, I have wanted my own place. A place to call home. A place thats dry and safe. A place I can experiment and relax. I an ever so thankful that my new home also comes with a gallery space. The actual flat is super small. Its just a studio, but its mine and that is so relieving.
The evening progresses and I spend my time talking to people about my art. Its an interesting experience, someone appreciating my work so much that it insights a deep conversation. A few of my pieces sold tonight, sad to part with them but at the same time its moving that my art provoked enough emotion in people that they wanted to buy it.
As I close up for the night, I feel a sense of sadness. I have reached a point that i'm no longer homeless, I have my own place, my own gallery and a somewhat secure job. So I should be happy right??? I know I should be, and I am! Its just I feel like things are moving so fast for me, yet I still feel so young. I have not even had my first kiss yet, or even a date. Living how I have been living, really does make you grow up fast, but at the same time, I am still the same kid I was 7 years ago.
Turning the gallery lights off, I head upstairs for some dinner. Living on your own makes dinner hard. It is so much effort to cook for one person every day, but I force myself to do it, because I know what its like to have to eat whatever I can find, to eat whatever I can afford. So now that i'm secure financially I choose to cook nice meals. As I eat my dinner, I turn on the tv.
I don't watch the news. People call me naive for it, but the news is just so depressing. Its always about the bad stuff in life and never about any of the good stuff happening daily. So I choose to remain unaware; anything super important I will find out anyway, wether that be by social media or word of mouth.
As I get ready for bed, I take a moment to look at the photo beside my bed. Its a photo of a young woman, around 25. She looks like me, or rather I look like her. She is my mother. I never really knew her, but I have a few memories. All I have left from her is this one picture and a Teddy she gave me when I was 3. I know she is still alive somewhere, I just don't know where. Even if I did, I probably wouldn't go see her.
