"U N T I T L E D" : Words About Worlds and the Many that Collide

words by: CL

Growing up, my parents had one official job. They would wake up on weekdays, put on their white coats and head to the hospital or clinic to tend to their patients with the endless knowledge packed away far beneath their coats, clogs and badges. On paper, they were doctors. But like any other set of parents, they were also drivers, chefs, entertainers, sports commentators, teachers, and to my sisters and I, probably something close to real-life super heroes if we really paid attention. But officially, they were doctors. That was the world they lived in.

As I grew up, I too, only thought about what my "official job" would be and it only encompassed one or the other. Everything else would be a side dish. But as my world has begun to stretch and tear and pull away from the one my parents built, I've noticed that the longer I've lived, the more pieces my world has begun to split into. Like replicating cells, splitting and multiplying, my worlds keep doing the same. And now, my "official job" as imagined it when I was young, now exists in four major pieces: business owner, artist, art teacher and soccer coach. Those are my four worlds. It just never occurred to me that I could be all of those at the same time and to not have either of them be deemed a "side hustle". They are all equally and entirely part of my life so much so that I don't think I could squeeze myself into one world ever again. 

The beauty of my worlds are that they often intertwine. As an artist I am also a photographer for my soccer team. My business often overlaps with the community I've become a part of. And at school, the kids I coach are in my classes. But each of these worlds are sectioned out into small incremental hours of the day: 9-11am Thick Mint Co., 11-2pm Art teacher, 4-6pm soccer coach, every hour in between, artist. Perhaps this is normal to those who've grown up with exposure to so much multifariousness but I grew up under one distinct umbrella that adapted but never really saw change in the 23 years that I've been a part of it. 

Sometimes I think it's too much: how can I really focus on one thing if I'm doing so many other things? But I think that has become the heart of Thick Mint Co.; the ability to combine a series of elements in a way that may not make sense in real time but from afar is just a series of different worlds colliding in the most beautiful way possible. And to combat that collision is precisely what would ruin the flow and make things hard.