family

Dog days of summer.

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This week was International Dog Day (I would never know if not for hashtags), and it reminded me of my dog growing up, Denny. His fav thing was to waddle out into the sun (he was rotund, guys) and lay in an empty flower box in the sun.

I mean, it’s not a BAD way to spend a day!

Anyway, I had to do a quick memory sketch of him ❤

Denny

Here’s a throwback to wee baby me in 1980/81 with Denny. He was definitely my pal! (Even if my face suggests uncertainty, lol)

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It’s complicated.

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I almost didn’t post this.

But I’m 40 now, so screw it, I’m not editing myself anymore!

I wrote this after a recent visit with my parents. (I hid this from them  on social media. Because I do love them and don’t want to hurt them. But being honest about hard things is important.)

This is for every queer person who still has unaffirming people in their life who love them. It’s so hard. I hear you, I love you, you aren’t alone.

It’s so complicated.

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A parent-scare + restore-faith-in-humanity story.

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As a parent, you never know when your kids will get hurt, but you are always waiting for it on some level. (And when you have a 2.5 yr old son like mine, you wait for it every day.)

We explored a new place last night, a walking trail (mostly concrete) around a man-made lake. It had been raining off and on, and past their bedtime, so we took one last photo of the kids before heading for the car. Our son then decided to run up a wet rock and slipped, falling head first on the concrete with a loud & sickening CRACK. (Yes, lots of blood immediately everywhere.)

Friends, there’s so many good people out there.

Thank you to the couple who were passing by, who stopped and immediately asked if they should call 911. They called, talked with us and the dispatchers, waited with us and directed the ambulance & paramedics to where we were.

Thank you to the young girl on her skateboard who passed by, and stayed just to quietly hold a big umbrella over us as it rained. Her smiles of comfort for our 4 yr old daughter helped so much, too. (Thanks to, I think, her dad, who gave us the umbrella to keep when the paramedics got there.)

Thank you to the man who stopped to ask what our son’s fav show was, so he could pull it up on his phone to help him stop crying. (Who knew I would be actually grateful for damn Blippi.)

Thank you to the man who stopped and said he lived nearby, if we needed to take our son there or if he needed to run home to grab first-aid supplies.

Thank you to the paramedics for their ongoing work in the world right now, in this situation, and for giving him a teddy bear after he wouldn’t stop crying in the ambulance.

Thank you to this rainbow for showing up immediately after the ambulance left, carting my son off to the hospital, and making me feel all the feels. 😭❤️🌈

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Everyone’s fine now and home (with stitches) and we are grateful.

Don’t give up on humanity. We met a lot of helpers tonight. 🙏❤️🙌🏼

Blippi’d

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My son Hudson is OBSESSED with Blippi. Can all the Mamas & Papas raise your hand if you have a toddler who is requesting to watch Blippi AD NAUSEAM?! (Send wine and headphones.)

My only appropriate response to this is to draw him in his glory wearing Blippi’s garb. Even when he asks for his children’s vitamin (which are Frozen-shaped because he has a very opinionated older sister), he pulls out ANY shape and yells, “BLIPPI ONE!”

Gosh, I love 2-year-olds.

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Side note…. I wonder if Blippi has any kids books out there and needs an illustrator…..

Quarantine art club

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Sheesh, friends.

This new normal, this quarantine life – it’s not easy, right? I don’t do well with unknowns, with large fears, with missing people. I am thankful for so many things, and also struggling with so many things. I know we all are. For me, music helps. Dancing helps. Working out helps. Hugging my kids helps. Getting outside on my bike helps.

Making art helps.

Here’s a couple sketches I have done outside of my book/animation projects that I’m not allowed to post about. I will keep adding as I do them!

Hang in there, we are all in this together!

Sending many social distance tight hugs. I can’t wait to have a big dance party when this is all over.

Stay safe and healthy!

May 5 – I don’t know why, but it gave me immense joy to paint my favourite chair tonight. I need to actually sit and rest (or write!) in it more, though. #notetoself

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May 3 – I think one of my fav things is hearing/watching someone playing violin. Man, I love that sound. (Best sound on film scores, too.) When I worked in Gastown (a trendy part of Vancouver) someone would take up residence on a bench and play their violin. It ALWAYS made me smile. Sending hope, love and music therapy to everyone tonight.

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Apr 24 – The sun was setting as I was biking the other day, so today I painted it. I’m hopeful, I’m sad, I’m trying my best not to give up. Remember, each day is a new one!

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Apr 21 – My daughter turns 4 today! I have been dying to draw her in this most awesome Mr. Rogers dress she constantly wears 😀

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Apr 20 – My daughter chose my outfit for me 🙂

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April 18 – saw this guy on my bike and his outfit made me smile, so I had to draw it 🙂

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… it’s being a parent.

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Sometimes being an artist for a living and a hobby can get tough. I often struggle to get out what’s in my head, and I am usually (always) super critical of myself and my work. I don’t often feel like what was in my head was successfully transmitted to the screen or paper… but I’m learning to be easier and more encouraging towards myself! Perfectionism is a tough & bumpy road.

When I have a big deadline looming ahead (as I do now), I feel frozen and overwhelmed. I start to doubt myself and feel creatively stuck. When this happens, I tell myself (usually Tams will tell me!) to take a break and go write. It helps to clear my head and be creative in a way that flows much easier for me.

Here’s something I wrote about parenting two years ago, and this morning while on a much-needed break, I edited it. (I’m also trying not to judge or assess it!) Hope some other parents out there can see themselves in the words. ❤

it’s a small warm hand on your neck

it’s sticky items in your pocket

it’s moments of no patience, then immediate unbridled love

it’s wiping big tears away, then chasing joy around the corner

it’s overwhelming doubts if you can do this

it’s big eyes staring silently at you to love them

it’s no answers, yet all the questions you never thought of

it’s sitting down to eat, and never getting to eat

it’s deep breaths & pep talks & breakdowns

it’s playing dress-up & funny dances & being silly because that’s all there is

it’s a little hand reaching up for help, knowing you’ll grab it

it’s a tiny toddler plopping themselves in your lap

it’s no personal space, fingerprints on your glasses & stains on your clothes

it’s a rollercoaster of emotions, then a gentle gliding of a canoe

it’s never feeling ready, yet somehow you already are

it’s rediscovering soft sheep’s wool, the joy of a puppy playing & the crunch of leaves

it’s letting your soul be fueled by the small voice calling “Mommy?”

it’s holding tight onto the big hugs until they let go

it’s learning to let go and see how much they teach you

it’s that feeling that you are a little being’s everything

it’s unbelievably hard

it’s so beautiful you ache

it’s all so worth it

…………….. it’s being a parent

Stacey Chomiak © 2020

Be the Helpers.

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Back in September, my wife Tams was out with our kids on a couple different occasions, and total strangers made very angry & unkind comments. One was from a lady angry she would bring a stroller into a store, and the second was after Hudson made an excited scream in a coffee shop. (Also, he’s not two yet, and very excited about life.)

I was frustrated these happened, within a week of each other, as this has been a totally exhausting and lonely stage of parenting – especially for Tams, when I am away working. So I wrote this post below as a response, on social media. It got picked up by the local news, which I will link at the bottom. (If you read the comments, many people missed the point of why I wrote this… but I guess it’s not for them, then.)

There are no perfect kids, there are no perfect parents and there are no perfect people. But there is always room to exercise empathy and be a bit more kind with each other. Let’s try.

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Friends, can we chat for a sec?

Mr. Rogers said, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

I’m wondering today, can we do one better? Instead of just looking for the helpers, can we BE THE HELPERS?

Most of you read about @tamschomiak recent run-in with the random people in the local coffee shop, asking why she would bring our (loud) kids in there. It was really upsetting.

Today she was in a thrift shop with the kids and another random lady said “Why the hell would you come in here with that g*d awful stroller and two kids?” & gave Tams the most angry look. Sigh.

Friends, we can do better. We are all a little (lot) tired and sad and maybe just plain angry with the state of the world right now.

BUT WE CAN DO BETTER.

My warrior of a wife just wanted to take our kids on an outing, which in itself is NO SMALL FEAT just to get out the door, let me tell you. Like SO MANY parents out there, she’s constantly exhausted, she’s emotionally depleted, she’s feeling weary in the thick fog of parenting two young, bright, healthy, loud, enthusiastic, boisterous toddlers. She often has to manage things on her own, so I can focus on the projects I’m juggling, and she flipping rocks that job better than any Mama I know. But frankly, this has been a really tough season of life for us both.

Comments like these, they are so discouraging. Sometimes it only takes a mildly annoyed comment to plummet someone into depression, or just plain ruin the rest of their day. Don’t be the straw that breaks someone’s back. I refuse to be.

Waiting for your coffee, passing people on the street, around your co-workers… just do better. Smile more. Encourage people. Say thank you & mean it. Ask people how they are. Be gentler with each other, you don’t know what hurt may be hiding beneath the surface. Decide to care, just a little, about people your energy interacts with from day to day. Every interaction, big or small, makes a difference. EVERY ONE.

The only way this world will get better is if WE DECIDE TO BE BETTER.

And if you think of it, send a thumbs up to my wife to remind her she’s a freaking rockstar. ❤️

#acalltokindness #bethehelpers #gaychristianmamas

 — with Tammy Chomiak.

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Being a guest on “Blessed Are the Feminists” podcast

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A few weeks ago, the kind folks at the “Blessed Are the Feminists” podcast invited me to be a guest, and talk about my experiences with Christian feminism, having LGBTQ faith and being a gay Christian mama.

It was such a great conversation, and I think, so important to have right now! The episode aired Sept 1, and can be heard on their website here. Or look them up on iTunes & Spotify to subscribe! Follow them on instagram & twitter @holyfeminists!

Here’s a few tweets they put out about my episode:

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Inktober 2018

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It took me into November – BUT I DID THEM ALL YOU GUYS! With two kids and lotsa work, this was a flippin’ feat.

All sketches done on a Moleskine sketchbook, using a mix of pentel brush pen, pigma liners, colerase pencils, pencil crayons and markers. Click to enlarge any of them to see larger.

Thanks for following along! 🙂

My story for Dark Glass Theatre’s “Trespass”

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Instructions for a life:


Pay attention. 

Be astonished. 

Tell someone. 

I grew up in a large Pentecostal church, baptized days after being born. God and Jesus were always a huge part of my life.

My youth was full of Christian conventions, church summer camps and Friday night youth groups. I always believed the church was my family, and they would love me no matter what, because that’s what I was taught. I loved every aspect of growing up in the church…

Until I realized in my late teens that I may be gay.

From the age of 17 to 29, I encountered hurt, neglect, shame, loneliness and guilt from my church family. Sadly not an uncommon story, what had been my refuge since birth, became a dark place that made me question everything.

I began to hate myself and my futile prayers. Without ever having to say it, they made me believe I had to choose: embrace God, or be damned, and embrace this capital Sin.

I clearly remember sitting in my room at 18 years old, writing in my prayer journal and sobbing. After dodging this struggle as long as I could, I finally turned my head to look it square in the face.

Everyone was right. I was the worst of sinners. And no amount of prayer was changing that.

How could I be attracted to women? I grew up around all the right people, in the perfect Christian environment, with a loving mother and father to guide me. I was so involved at church and I loved it. I loved Jesus genuinely, and my family fiercely – and now I felt as though they couldn’t love me if I embraced being gay.

Hope began to dwindle.

Hope continued to dwindle for 13 years, where I had some of the most severe lows, and intoxicating highs, as I trudged along the messy path of my faith and sexuality. My faith was truly tested in every possible way. I was forced to ask myself  – and God – questions that I never would have, if I was straight.
What a gift, actually, that turned out to be.

Pay attention. 

Be astonished. 

Tell someone.

My relationships with family and friends went through some extreme ups and downs, and I made some bad choices motivated by hurt and loneliness.

Yet through it all, I felt God softly standing beside me, gently pursuing me, and not allowing despair to take a full hold. Deep down I always knew He created me for more than this chaos I was feeling.

A few weeks before my 30th birthday, I was coming very close to the end of my rope, and I knew I had to make a choice.

I had been dating this amazing woman named Tammy for seven years, yet so much of my life was in the closet, and up in the air. I lived with constant chaos rolling around in my soul, and I didn’t see how I could ever be okay with being both gay and a Christian — never mind be gay-married. It wasn’t fair to her any longer, and I had to make a decision to either end things or move forward.

A friend asked me to housesit, and I knew this was my chance to spend a week alone with God.

As I peeled back the layers of hurt, chaos and confusion of the last 13 years, I wept, and I asked God the impossible one last time.

Can You truly still love me if I love the gay part of myself?

Will you turn Your back, or will You be in the middle of our relationship, if I take the hand of the one I love, and walk forward in this life with her?

Will I ever possibly feel peace?

The answers were not was I was expecting — and they were not what everyone was telling me they would be. It was in that moment that I realized something vital. I had been listening to God’s people for 13 years – but what did God Himself have to say to me?

I waited, and I listened… and I sat there in the stillness.

I felt inside my soul, bubbling to the surface, a deep, resounding YES.

YES, I LOVE ALL THAT I MADE YOU TO BE.

YES, a thousand times over, YES.

And more than that – none of your struggle will be wasted.

I

Felt

Peace.

A peace that began to wash over me like waves, consuming the shores of chaos and washing them away, layer by layer.

I didn’t get written answers, or theological clarity — but I got peace. A peace that has not wavered since that day.

One year later, Tams and I got married. Our wedding day was not at all as I imagined it as a young girl. For one, I wasn’t marrying a shaggy-haired youth pastor, I was marrying a woman.

Secondly – my parents chose not to be there. I never thought I could look back on my wedding day with the profound void of my parents absence, and be truly happy.

But let me tell you my friends, God was there. And He filled that void so completely. I remember turning the corner to walk down the aisle, and I saw Tams waiting there for me – my heart burst, because I truly felt God saying to me – this is who I have made for you. I never believed that could have been possible. I am astonished. When I think back on that day, I just feel love.

I stand before you now, seven years later, at 37 years old, married to my beautiful Tams since 2011. We have a 19 month old daughter named Robson, who is our consistent beam of light, and we are pregnant with our second – a boy, due in just a few short days.

Profound gratefulness fuels my life. 

I can say today that I am wholly myself, in true contentment, and embracing this life God has given me.

It hasn’t been easy since that peace flooded my soul – but it is a continual well in which I draw from, to make it through the tough times.

There are still people close to me, including my parents, who do not agree, and that is hard… but it is okay. We can disagree. I know some people see my gift of peace as the moment when I gave into my sin. But this moment when people believe I walked away from God, is in fact the moment that I ran towards Him.

This is God’s story, and I am just trying to live it out. I believe that He will redeem it all one day; and I just need to leave that up to Him.

Pay attention. 

Be astonished. 

Tell someone.

This poem by Mary Oliver resonates deeply as I reflect on my life journey so far.

Pay attention. Because of the turmoil that God has brought me through, I am forced to pay attention to the gifts in my life that I will no longer take for granted. My daughter’s embrace is that much sweeter. Holding my wife’s hand in public is that much more profound.

Be astonished. When I have tough encounters with the ones I love, and they do not cheer my relationship or family on – I am grieved. But God gives me such a quiet and beautiful peace to be still, and trust Him. My heart remains soft. And that makes me truly astonished.

Tell someone. When God gave me this peace, I promised Him I would share His story. That is why I embrace it proudly. I believe I have been called to share my truth, to live authentically – and to leave the rest to Him.

What a true gift it is to be heard.

Thank you for listening.