Life in lines

Every so often I get the urge to get my hands dirty. It usually happens when my mind is going at a million miles per hour when in some way I need to make sense of the madness and chaos inside. Just like writing, art is inspired by something. What might look like one big mess on a canvas to some might just mean the world to someone else and to those that get it, to those that understand, for you I have respect. It takes a lot to create order from chaos and turn it into something visually captivating.

I rarely share my work, I don’t because like so many others I feel it is not good enough and even when it comes to my writing and even this blog I always wonder, is it good enough? There comes a point when one should stop caring about whether something will live up to the standards and expectations of others and just do, just be.


Life, JR Robberts 2017

I created “Life” today, my interpretation of it. Life is dark, for those struggling on the inside but what this painting shows me are the lines of this darkness. At the top, the lines are dark like my mind at times, the thoughts swirl and curve downwards however from this darkness comes something better as I learn to cope, learn to survive. Each battle I win creates another line, a line of color I can draw from. These lines represent my family, my friends and those few that are always by my side. At times it can feel like the darkness might start spreading more, slowly enveloping the lines of color in shades of black but I know around my waist is a rope of people holding tight, pulling hard to stop the bipolar, to help me deal with the mental illness I was given.

I am not the person I was seven years ago, the road is bumpy, shit this road is hard. The struggle is real but for now, I can do this, may the lines of color always flow, symbolizing hope and joy, that even in tough times I will pull through.


JR Robberts, 2017

I know I am not alone, many struggle and suffer in silence and if you happen to be one of those people I feel for you and just know that my door is always open. People ask me why I write, why I do what I do and my answer is simple. I do it so that maybe someone else can paint one day and remember me not for my fame or money I made but rather who I was as a person. My fight is not won, tomorrow is never certain but one thing is, as long as I can I will never stop trying.

Never stop,



2 thoughts on “Life in lines

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