Unapologetically Me: The Woman Behind the Art

It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t quiet. I lost myself in pieces — through betrayal, exhaustion, and decades of trying to be who the world needed me to be.

And when it finally collapsed, I didn’t know who I was without the weight I had been carrying.when I heard it: “Create. At least once a week.”…..

This isn’t about bouncing back. This is about burning it down and choosing myself on purpose.

My fire didn’t come from someone else this time. I lit it myself. And I’m not going back.

I didn’t set out to become an artist — I set out to survive.

In the stillness that followed the collapse, I picked up paint without rules, tools, or expectations.

What started as therapy became my language.

My hands moved before I could explain.

My spirit led, and I followed.

This wasn’t about perfection — it was about permission.

And that permission changed everything.

Each piece became a moment I moved through — a way to process, to release, to reclaim.

I didn’t know it then, but I was painting my way home.

This is where Kassi Renee Kreations was born — not from ambition, but from awakening.

This journey isn’t just paint and presence — it’s sales calls, caregiving, exhaustion, and still showing up with heart.

I’m a single mom. A full-time professional. A granddaughter helping care for my 97-year-old grandma.

I’m also a sister, a daughter, a friend. A woman navigating real life in all its chaos and choosing to keep going — softer, stronger, and still standing.

I stay connected through the South West Regional Chamber of Commerce and several community networks — always finding ways to build relationships, stay inspired, and give back.

My art may be the soul of this story —

but this is the heartbeat behind it.

This journey was never meant to stay hidden.

As I reclaimed myself, I began finding ways to show up for others — not as someone who has it all figured out, but as someone who gets it.

Through every canvas, conversation, and connection, I’m learning that healing doesn’t always happen in private — sometimes, it’s in the witnessing that we’re set free.

Whether I’m sharing my story, supporting local causes, or simply holding space for someone who needs it, I believe in showing up with soul.

Giving back. Speaking truth. Staying real.

This isn’t just about creating art.

It’s about creating impact.

This journey was never about bouncing back.

It was about burning down every version of me that was built from survival.

It was about grieving the woman I had to be — and finally meeting the one I was meant to become.

I didn’t heal quietly.

I bled through colors. I sobbed over canvases.

I sat in the silence of everything I lost — and still chose to keep going.

This is what becoming looks like:

Messy. Holy. Unapologetically mine.

And I’m not just healing anymore — I’m rising.

It started with 15 canvases — gifts for friends and family at Christmas. No name. No signature. Just a creative spark I followed without knowing why.

But something awakened in me after that.

What began as simple gifts slowly turned into sacred expression.

I kept creating — not for holidays or birthdays, but for me.

With the encouragement of my people, I kept going.

And in the process, painting became something more than art.

It became a healing practice. A spiritual reset. A lifeline.

Then came the moment I shared it with the world.

Art All Night marked my first public appearance — and it wasn’t just about a canvas.

It was about reclamation.

I stood beside She Was Sanctified in the Smoke, a piece formed from leftover paint and spiritual fire.

And in that space — where I once felt invisible — I was seen.

People felt the energy. They asked questions. They cried.

And I realized…

This was no longer just my healing.

It was my becoming.

I don’t have it all figured out.

I’m still healing. Still unlearning. Still meeting parts of the woman I’m becoming.

My creations — my Kreations — aren’t just art. They’re extensions of me.

Of the mess. The breakthroughs. The days I show up anyway.

They’ve become part of my new identity — not as a finished product, but as a work in progress with purpose.

This ride isn’t polished. It’s real. And if you’ve made it this far, thank you.

Thank you for seeing me — not just the art, but the heart behind it.

My hope? That something here sparks something in you.

That you feel less alone. More inspired.

That you remember it’s okay to still be figuring it out.

This is me — raw, becoming, and choosing to keep going.

And the next chapter?

I’m creating it in color.