Liberation for Sale (My Wrist is Broken, Send Help)

So. I broke my wrist.

My dominant wrist. Visiting a couple of artists to see their work. Taking a selfie.

I know. I KNOW.

I was doing what I always do, going to see art, supporting my community, phone in hand documenting everything, and then I was on the ground and my wrist was making a sound it should not make and that was that. Cast on. Dominant hand. The hand I use for literally everything.

The irony of breaking myself while out looking at other people's art is not lost on me.

Anyway. Here is the reality of being a self-employed artist who works from home and runs her own organizations and has no paid sick leave and no one to cover when things go sideways. Things are a little tight right now. I am applying for emergency grants for artists because that is what you do when you are in this life and something unexpected happens and you need a cushion.

So I reopened the Sweet Shoppe of Liberation. Selling my work feels better than just asking for help with nothing to offer in return. You get something. I get something. That feels right to me.

If you don't know the Sweet Shoppe, here is the short version. For years I have been shredding my life. Literally. Love letters that once defined my worth. Diary pages full of body shame and self-criticism. Documents and photographs and objects that told a story I no longer needed to carry. And then I started collecting what came out. Packaging it. Making it into something you can hold.

Each piece is an acrylic vitrine filled with shredded fragments of 52 years of living. The shop has an assortment of sizes and pieces. Painted Yogurtland spoons from my eating disorder recovery. Cut up wigs from experiments with identity and appearance. CD inserts from a music collection I lost 15 years ago. Love letters. Transparencies. Things that once had a hold on me and now live behind clear acrylic where they can be seen without touching me anymore.

Every piece is one of a kind. Once it is gone it is gone.

Products include Losing Weight, The Bald and the Beautiful, Curvy and Confident, Plus Collection Transparency, Comfort and Joy, Empty Cases, An Uncomfortable Skin.

Est. 1973. Which is when I was born. Which is where all of this started.

The store is live on my website now. Link below. And if buying is not in the cards right now, forwarding this to someone who might be into it genuinely helps.

https://www.kristineschomaker.net/shop

Thank you for being here. Even when I am one-handed and a little chaotic. Especially then, actually.

🖤 Kristine