My Diary

You know how I always say I'm like a blind box? This piece is the proof.

I started drawing her in pencil — just a face, just lines. But as I kept going, other things started coming out. Words I didn't plan to write. 'I don't know who I am anymore.' 'Half inhuman, devil in disguise.' 'Half angel in the light.' 'Confused.'

I didn't write those with regular pencil. I wrote them in UV ink — invisible until you shine a blacklight on it. So when you look at her in normal light, she's just a beautiful pencil drawing. But when the lights go off and the blacklight hits? She tells you the truth.

That's how I feel most days. On the outside, I'm fine. I'm smiling, I'm making videos, I'm being a mom. But underneath? There's a whole other layer. The devil and the angel, both in there, both fighting to come out.

Every piece I make has secrets like this. Not all of them need a blacklight — some you can find just by looking really close. But they're all in there. Because I'm in there. All the different versions of me.

You never know which Channon is going to show up when I pick up a pencil. That's the beautiful mysterious surprise.

I want this to be a really fun, cool kids club that's totally free and totally WORTH IT. A crazy cool and cozy place people actually WANT to come to.

They get a mix of everything fun, mystery outsider art print packs, cozy merch, entertaining storytime videos, my private diary 📔, and they know they have a bestie they can share anything and everything with.

Here's my dream: if you're ever out in public and you see someone wearing VIP BESTIE CLUB by Channon Rose, you know that person is part of the cool club. It's a place where NO ONE IS JUDGED. We are all loved and accepted just the way we are, flaws and all.

The outsiders, the rejects, the black sheep of the family, the LGBTQ+ community, basically EVERYONE, no matter WHAT you are or WHO you are, you are welcome here. We love and accept everyone, especially the ones who are usually left out, hated on, different, feel like they don't belong, or just feel alone and want a place to feel loved where they don't have to hide who they truly are.

In fact, we celebrate you and the parts of you that are usually looked down upon, because we know how that feels and it sucks. We should be celebrating ourselves the way we were born.

It's one of the reasons I share so freely online. Most people would NEVER share the crazy things I post, but not me. I do the opposite. Some may think it's for attention, some may think I do it for money. But truly, I do it because I want to help others feel less alone. I want people to know it's okay to mess up. It's okay to get cancelled, learn from your mistakes, move on, and still have a good life. It's okay to just be YOU.

I've made more mistakes and f*cked up more times than I can count, and I know I'll make more mistakes and do a lot of dumb sh*t in the future. But it's because I'm human. I believe most people have good intentions and don't purposely want to hurt anyone. I always say: as long as you aren't hurting yourself or anyone else, I love and support you.

I also believe in second chances, third chances, and sometimes 4th and 5th chances depending on what it is, aka addiction and things of that nature. I just truly want the best for everyone, and for everyone to get along and be happy.

Literally, if I were president I would be the Peace & Love 💕 to all type. I don't think they exist, and I know nothing about politics other than I don't like it very much, because one, it confuses me, and two, I've learned a lot of things are messed up because of government type stuff and bureaucrats. I don't even know how to spell it or pronounce it, so don't come to me for advice about any of that lol.

Anyway, you get the point.

Channon Rose XOXO

My original art is usually pretty rare to be sold publicly. It's more of a private collection. I think the last time I sold any of it was 2011, and then again in 2015.

After my most recent psychiatric stay I was inspired, and also manic, so a lot came out at once. Things I had been holding in for years.

Art is therapy. But when your freedom is taken away, and what feels like your humanity along with it, art becomes all you have left. It's what allowed me to remember that even if I'm not treated like a human being because of my mental illness, I still belong in this world just as much as anyone else.

I don't know why I was born with a mental illness, but not knowing why doesn't mean I should believe it makes me less than. It just makes me different. I believe we are all put on this earth for a reason. We are all born with gifts, and I'm trying to use mine for good, even if it isn't perfect. It's all I have in this moment.

That's what lives inside my art. Anytime someone looks at it, I hope it reminds them that no one is perfect, that we all make mistakes and that's okay, and that you aren't alone in struggling.

Life can feel like literal Hell. I feel like I've been living in Hell most of my life, suffering. It's awful, but somehow I make it through another day. I try to find ways to trick my brain, or train my brain, to find the good in the horrible things. It works well when you practice at it. You should give it a try.

I hope my art reminds you that it's okay to talk out loud about mental health. In fact, we should talk about it more. I just hope it inspires you, or helps you, the way it helped me when I needed it.

Pencils are considered contraband in a psychiatric hospital. But on the first day I arrived, I found the Secret Patient Pencil wedged between my mattress and the bed frame. It fell out onto the floor when I pulled the sheet back to get into bed. It was most likely hidden and used by the patient who stayed in my room before me.

I like to think they left it there for me. Maybe the patient before them left it for them, too. I made the decision to carry on that secret tradition in room ***, hoping the next patient whose room that becomes may find the Secret Patient Pencil hidden in the same spot, left behind for them to hopefully use in a safe way to help them through their stay, like it helped me during mine.

That is why the collection of seven graphite girls is named the Secret Patient Pencil Collection. It is quiet. It is private. It is passed from one hurting person to another as a tiny act of survival and care.

In the psych ward you aren't allowed real pens or pencils, nothing rigid, nothing sharp, nothing anyone could use to hurt themselves or someone else. What they hand you instead is about two inches long and made of soft, flexible plastic. It bends while you're drawing with it.

So when you look closely at these pieces, know that every line came out of that little bending pen, in a place where almost everything else had been taken away. It made the work harder, and it made the work honest.

I was in a psychiatric hospital, surrounded by psychosis, in a place where everyone's skeletons were outside their closets for everyone to see. There were no phones, no internet, and one wall phone shared by every patient. Every conversation was monitored. For the first time in a long time, I had nothing to keep me busy or distract myself from the pain, the physical pain and the mental pain I suffer from every second of every day.

I asked my husband when he came to visit if he could bring me some of my art supplies, because I wasn't allowed to have any electronics inside. They let me have art markers, paper, and a pen, but only if I used them outside my room, monitored. That was hard because I usually lay down to make art; I have chronic back pain. But having those supplies back in my hands made me happy. So I sat outside my room, with that tiny bendable pen, and started drawing.

It is extremely difficult to write with, let alone create art, so small, so bendy. But it made me so much more grateful for all the little things I easily took for granted outside of that place. I was able to find happiness there anyway, and that was what was in my mind and body, so that is what came out on paper. The colorful Skeleton Psychosis collection was born, one piece after another.

These prints are meant to be collected and displayed as a gentle reminder to find the good in the bad moments, and to be grateful for the little things in life we usually take for granted.