Strange Flowers

I was watching a documentary about the rock group the Ramones. When he was a teenager Joey Ramones' mother had taken him to a psychiatrist. The doctor took her aside, after talking to Joey, and said, "Your son will never be a useful member of society." She knew the doctor was wrong. She knew that Joey was bright, curious and full of ideas. Joey had a lot to give the world. It is a better place because he was in it. Imagine how awful it would have been if he didn't have that one person in his life that understood him.

Feeling you are understood by someone can make all the difference. Mental illness creates a special bond between those that have it. We understand what the other is going through. We were all tossed into the dirt and stepped on. It rains on us more days than not. But we have made the decision that the world will not beat us. We can make that earth into a garden, even if they call us crazy. We grow when they tell us we will never be a useful member of society. They are wrong. We know they are.

These are my fellow travelers: Tippy, Nicole and Kerry. We are on a very long journey together. 

Nicole and Tippy 

First, Tippy -- an amazing songwriter from California. Tippy's support and encouragement helps me go on when I think, "Is this worth it? Am I really getting anywhere?" She lets me know that what I am doing is vital. More than that, she has sent me her writings on mental illness and creativity. She sets a standard for honesty and emotional eloquence that I will never surpass.

Nicole? Awwww, Nicole is our not-so-cowardly lion, a Brooklyn street cat with a bright red mane and a never-back-down attitude. It is her I need to thank for introducing me to the other strange flowers. She asked me to listen to Tippy's music. Once I heard it, I knew their was room for one more on our journey.

Nicole and I talk on the phone for hours when our world falls apart. It isn't easy being a lion. The world tends to stare or run. We understand each other -- the battles that are fought everyday just because we have decided to be ourselves.

Kerry

And that brings us to Kerry, and I love her most of all. She opened my eyes to a world, and a sensitivity, I never knew about. She watered me and watched me grow. Her family claims she has killed every plant she has ever tried to nurture. They should see me. I'm six feet tall. Even in Kansas, that's a frickin' big daisy. I would not be writing these words if not for the world she showed me. I would still be in the dirt, never having sprouted, but for the day I saw her. She was clutching a stainless steel coffee dispenser as big as she was -- an Irish pixie with huge brown eyes carrying what looked like R2D2 in the coffee shop where we worked.

I looked at her and said, "Is that carbon scoring on your droid? Looks like you guys have seen some fighting."

Little did I know she had been in a war most of her life. Witches and fire and flying monkeys trying to steal her damn ruby slippers. But she held fast in them. She knew their power must be very strong. I was a scarecrow, not attentive enough to have noticed that battle raging. I've grown so much since that day. Today I'm amazed when someone tells me that they have never changed. They are the same person they have always been, as if that is something to be proud of. What a shame. What a waste of a life not use the challenges to help us grow into something new. Strange flowers like us can bare some pretty amazing fruit.

Nicole, Tippy and Kerry, thank you.
Shine on,
Vincent



If you want to read something else that will make you fall in love with these strange flowers:

Kerry: This is What it is Like
Tippy: Superglue and Seashells
  Tippy: You Won’t See Me