I’ve had a blog for almost ten years, off and on. It started out as a crafty blog, and a marketing blog for my shop. It was also a lifestyle blog and eventually it became kind of a crafty mom blog. Sort of. I mean, it’s always been just things that are on my mind and come from my heart. It has never ever been an income producing, ad-drenched thing. That shit makes me mad and sad. Anyway, I wiped my blog completely clean a couple of weeks ago. So now I have this new thing and I’ve been trying to think about what to do with it. But I mean, the answer is clear. I need a place to just share my world as it is now.
I don’t care if no one reads it. I need a place to share, outside of myself, the things that I see and do and think. Because I think they’re worth sharing. Because we live in a new, weird world, where voices and images are losing their uniqueness. Social media is training us in a new vocabulary, a new style of expressing ourselves. We share articles, we use a finite collection of emojis and likes to convey our feelings, we accept poor spelling and grammar and robot-corrected phrasing. Who the fuck are we actually? Well I am still me and you are still you, and our completely unique thoughts and words and designs are desperately needed right now.
In Which I Turn fear into Strength, like a Magician.
So who the fuck am I today? Compared to who I was one year ago, on January 17, 2017? I can say for certain that I am not the things I was last year. I am not grieving, I am not scared, I am not lost. I am not confused, I am not overwhelmed, I am not panicking. November 8, 2016 was the beginning of a deeply painful time for me and for a crapload of you. But here I am today, feeling none of those things. Actually I feel solid and strong and capable and unafraid of the future. It’s not because we suddenly have a new president. It’s not because racism and sexism and abuse and intolerance and poverty and war have evaporated from the planet. It’s because last year I went to the bottom of my own pit. I went to some of the darkest places inside myself. I flailed. I panicked. I questioned my assumptions about the world. I questioned friendships. I shut down. I turned things off. And it was worth it. The pain, the grief, the fear. It was worth it to feel those things. Because here I am, unafraid. Eyes open. Secure in myself.
Who the fuck am I? I’m Ixchel Paloma Lechuga. I’m a maker. I’m a mom. I’m the lady half of a mixed race hetero love ball. I’m an animal lover, a sewist, a grower of things, a protector of authenticity, a lover of period dramas and unashamed supporter of bad words, pink things, and junk food binges. I recycle shit more and more. I reuse shit more and more. I’m a Californian in Oregon. A city girl in a small town. A Mexican American who doesn’t have a space in either sphere. I aspire to embrace my contradictions.