Today we’d like to introduce you to Zoë Grimes.
Hi Zoë, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
Hi, I started my life as a kid who always felt a little different. I was born with a super rare liver disease called Biliary Atresia, which made me physically and medically different, but I have always felt “weirder” and out of place within the world around me, unable to etch out a space where I felt a sense of belonging within it. My liver disease gave me a very low likelihood of surviving, let alone thriving.
My immediate family was very into sports, Republican and conservative views, and had almost nothing in common with me growing up. My grandparents, to this day, are my best friends, and they have always been so loving and supportive of me, so I was incredibly lucky to have them in my corner during my formative years. I also had a few trusted and loving friends growing up (shoutout to my best friend of 11 years, Jacob, I love you!), but in general, in my early life, I was a loner and felt as if I did not have anywhere that I could fully express myself and be celebrated for my uniqueness.
I found a sense of community and likeness for the first time in my high school theatre troupe and figured out I was pretty good at coming up with creative concepts and executing them through set design and production. During that time, I also found haunted houses, which was the best thing that may have ever happened to me. I formed a group of people who also were looking for a place for their misfit souls and eccentric selves to have a place to express and connect without judgment.
I worked at several haunts for a little over a decade, but I experienced many hardships and stress during that time: I was put into unsafe situations and dealt with much more than I should have at my age. Without going into too much detail, I had a serious mental health decline for a few years after these events transpired, got diagnosed with CPTSD, and had a long and tumultuous road that has led me to where I am today. As a kid who tried to find community in all the wrong places, someone who tried to look for love and acceptance in places where only more trauma and eventual unrest lived, I have made it a mission of mine as an adult to make spaces where EVERYONE feels safe and accepted, with no restraints when it comes to being themselves.
Whether it be a painting event, a performance art/drag show, or one of the many parties my fantastic roommates and I throw at our house (the Big Gay House, as our community lovingly calls it), I started these gatherings to make people feel like they have the ability to wear what they want, be who they want, and express themselves artistically in any way they feel safe and encouraged to do so around me.
I have been grateful and privileged enough to be able to partner with a few organizations to fundraise for in the process—organizations with missions that mean a lot to me, such as The Last Prisoner Project, Healthcare for the Homeless, and Art with a Heart. By making accepting and welcoming spaces for anyone and everyone who feels like they need it, I have been able to take just as much benefit from it as the attendees of my events have.
I want every single person who meets me to feel a sense of love and belonging, because everyone deserves to feel celebrated for the things that make them, well, them. I genuinely am so grateful for the love, support, and trust the community has given me and the opportunities that I have been blessed with in the past year.
Whether you see me at a Puff + Paint, a Paint + Sip, or some other weird thing I haven’t developed yet (there is a lot stewin’ in my noggin), hopefully, when you do, you will feel the feelings I am describing and invite your friends to relish in the joy of being yourself without boundaries as well.
I am so, so lucky.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Surely not! Apart from the struggles I have already described, I actually moved back here after a failed relationship that I felt I would never recover or heal from if I did not move far away from it. I felt beaten down, depressed, and my self-confidence was in the garbage. I felt even more isolated by the fact that the apartment I had was in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, in a sleepy little town called Waynesboro. The only people I knew in that town were my ex and his family. I was being played for a fool and was so desperate for love that I stayed for many more years than I should have. I was being mistreated and abused, and I attempted to leave him over and over again.
I then realized that the only way I would be able to be myself fully and learn from the mistakes I made was to physically remove myself from the situation. I was rewarded, it feels like, with the strong sense of love and the open-armed acceptance I have felt from the town of Baltimore City. I am from the county, and another reason I moved here was to help care for the grandparents I mentioned before. They are my rocks—the glue that holds me together—and have been for my entire life. They are both facing cancer, and a big driving factor for coming back to the area, outside of my ex, was to spend as much time with them as I possibly can. Even going to their house and giving them hugs, telling them how much I love them (my grandpa is deaf, but he is the world’s best lip reader, we also talk via the iPhone notes app!), and participating in my daily phone calls with my grandmother keep me going when the going gets tough. That girl really is my inspiration and my hero.
I have had physical health concerns with my liver disease a couple of times in the last few years, with hospitalizations lasting for weeks—the most recent being last December. I actually lost a really cool internship at Walt Disney World due to hospitalization. I will eventually need a liver transplant; however, in my current position, I do not make enough to be able to afford the insurance they provide and still have enough money to live.
My events I host and participate in began as a source of extra income and have blossomed into sold-out shows where I get to tackle topics that mean a lot to me through performance art or discussions at my events, including, but not limited to: the American healthcare system, the current genocide in Gaza, and, as always, the importance of recognizing mental health concerns early and using art as a coping skill for all populations—regardless of skill or functionality.
In the previous question, I also spoke a little bit about my mental health journey, and I wanted to revisit that. In 2020, I moved to Pennsylvania to try and leave an unhealthy situation I was in at home, and this ended up being a month before the pandemic happened. My mental health was in shambles already—then the pandemic happened and made it significantly worse. I ended up going inpatient for psychiatry twice during that year because of the things I had endured as a teen that I had not yet healed from.
This completely broke me, and I ended up trying to take my own life. After trials, tribulations, and many a hardship, I now work in a psychiatric and substance use unit as their Activities Specialist. I have the opportunity and absolute privilege to share my journey and the healing power of art, humor, and psychology with the people of Baltimore City when they need it most—and now through my events.
I share my story with my clients/audience at my shows, my patients, and anyone else who will listen to it because, at one point, I was told that “just because I wanted to tell my story didn’t mean people want to listen to it.” Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn. I suffered in silence for years, and it brought me to some dark places I never want myself—or anyone else that I get the chance to meet—to experience.
If a million people tell me to shut up about it and one singular person can hear my story and resonate with it, then the backlash of it all is MORE than worth it.
When I was but a sick little baby, my grandmother took me to a church, and they blessed me. I am not the most religious person, but I have surely been blessed. I was estimated to need a transplant by the time I turned four, and I am currently 26. The church members told my grandmother I was special and that I would go on to do something meaningful and important—and I believe that the life I am living lately and the incredible opportunities I have had are just that.
I have been told my entire life I am a miracle baby, a medical anomaly—but the real miracle is that I am alive in the world at a time where we are knowledgeable enough about mental and physical health to not only have the chance to live as long as I have with my native liver, but to become an advocate for others and their mental/physical health now that I am on the road to clarity with my own.
I am becoming an ambassador for the American Liver Foundation, in addition to the mental health work that I do. Despite my adversity, I am hoping that someone hears my story and has the courage to keep living—to keep trying no matter how rough their own roads are—because of the faith that the end of the road is far off and lined with many a journey and gorgeous sunsets and views along the way.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
Well, I am Zoe (otherwise known as Penny Laine in drag and performance circles), and I specialize in hosting my own events and making spaces for those who don’t have a space otherwise. There is a sociology term referred to as a “third place” that I’m sure people are familiar with—a social surrounding other than the home or workplace where people can gather. I have the opportunity to create these spaces, but in a unique way!
Since only February, I have been able to host events at bars, restaurants, and various other random locations, and now I have a loyal group of people who come and support not only me but themselves. I was inspired to host these classes for the masses because of my patients. I’ve had clients say, “I haven’t done arts and crafts since preschool! This is baby shit!”—and yet, they’re having a hoot and a holler, laughing and smiling by the end of the group. Patients have told me that they just needed someone to listen to them and make it fun while they talk about things that are hard to discuss otherwise.
I was told I could “make a lot of money off of this”—this being the encouragement I offer during my classes, the sense of community we build, and the “electric” personality I’ve been told I have. While I wish I could hold the events for free, the biggest financial blessing has been for the organizations I partner with. In only a few short months, I’ve been able to raise over $3,500 in total for local charities—some of which I mentioned earlier. I’ve also partnered with the Pride Center of Maryland and Baltimore Safe Haven, notably.
At almost all of the events I host, we raise money via ticket sales, direct donations, and raffles for a different organization that is helping our city—or our world—be a better place. If any readers know of a place where I could host events in the future, an organization that means a lot to them that I could potentially collaborate with, or if they just want to say hello and seek out a friend, I encourage them to reach out to me!
At my most recent event, I was able to venture into allowing local artisans and businesses to set up vending at the event as well, which is such a blessing. A patient telling me they wished they could have these sorts of things in the “outside world” was the spark that made me realize how big a need the community had—not only for third spaces but for mental health exercises combined with a little art therapy to make it engaging and fun to discuss difficult topics.
In the classes, we introduce ourselves and say a fun fact about ourselves, and everyone in the class yells “hello” to the person speaking. I host my in-unit classes the same way, fostering a warm and welcoming feeling from the moment of arrival. In my public art events, we usually have a loose mission we are trying to accomplish, but I offer up unique “art supplies” to make the point that anyone can make art out of anything, on any budget: straws, bottle caps, beads, discarded paper, and things that may be considered trash otherwise. At the end we share if we feel so inclined and talk about how it felt to be present in that moment wiht likeminded people, and the healing power that art has.
The classes are not guided, but instead, I offer exercises in topics such as self-acceptance, loving your inner child/artist and their needs, and silencing your inner critic—that voice that tells you you’re not good enough or are undeserving of recreation and the freedom that comes with creating without boundaries or restraint. Each table has different supplies than the last which encourages a sense of community and the opportunity to build friendships and meet new people. In my most recent class, for example, we did progressive muscle relaxation and discussed topics related to negative self-talk. We used color theory to create an art piece to describe how the participants were currently feeling without the need to express it in words. Each event is a little bit different, from the theme to the supplies I bring, and each time, it is as unique as the people who attend.
I think I’m set apart from other event hosts because of the marriage I provide between my psychology education and my art education and the unguided, natural flow of the courses I offer. Not to mention the fundraising aspect, which is arguably the best part of the whole thing.
My proudest moment thus far in this journey has been the opportunity to perform in my friend Sari’s show at Le Mondo, which was a political benefit variety show for Gaza Soup Kitchen. Seeing all of those people in the audience for such an important cause, getting together to experience art and make change at the same time… that meant everything.
This brings me to my drag and performance art alter ego—Penny! I have been doing these events separately from my personal art events, sometimes hosting my own shows with my roommate Mary (Milky Hazard in drag spaces, they are so talented!) or participating in shows put on by others (my favorite is Dramedy, hosted by Kenny Rooster monthly at the Baltimore Improv Group!).
I don’t feel like I fit into the mold of a traditional drag artist, and I’m currently in the process of creating my own performance art showcase for people who haven’t had the opportunity to showcase their art in the ways they want to.
My second proudest moment was at my in home venue during a party we had in May for my birthday. I made a liver out of clay and gave myself a fake, bloody liver transplant by cutting into my dress and hiding blood and props in a fanny pack beneath it, after giving a speech about the current state of the for-profit healthcare system in America. This was in honor of a woman who passed away at a local hospital the day before while waiting for a transplant because she was uninsured and unable to afford it.
I want to be known for creating third places where people feel loved and like they belong. I want to be known for being out there, a little silly, and original. I spoke in the last question about finding love in the wrong places—but mostly, I want to be known for offering a safe and understanding space for people to find that love within themselves, and the courage to keep at it every day, no matter what “it” means to them.
On the days where all you can do is exist in the world, know that I am proud of you—but not nearly as proud as you should be of yourself.
Are there any important lessons you’ve learned that you can share with us?
The most important lesson I have learned is that if you feel like you do not belong anywhere, MAKE a place where you belong. I promise there is someone else out there just like you, who is fighting for their place in the world, all on their own. Fitting in is not nearly as important as being yourself is, and it’s not even close to being as fun! Talk to the person who you feel like is never the one to speak up. At my classes, I encourage people to get up and talk to one another because you never know what someone could be dealing with. I invite and challenge you—yes, you, reader!—to have the courage to show up for a stranger who needs it, to shoot a smile in their direction, and if you do not have the ability to do that for someone else, please, please do it for yourself. Take care of yourself and learn your self-worth, because every single person has worth and value, and monetary value is the least valuable asset of all.
I recently started reading The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. One of the best parts so far to me was the phrase, “If an artist has anything, it is the AUDACITY.” This spoke to me and, in many ways, inspired me to have the audacity to start up my classes. Have the audacity to give yourself the time to be creative and the audacity to accept the fact that it will not be perfect. The audacity to wake up and choose you every day because you are your best asset. The audacity to speak to or love someone else just because they are a fellow human on this planet and are deserving of love too, whether they are unhoused, an immigrant, or different from you in any possible way.
If you are ever feeling alone or at the end of your rope, please remember there is no shame in getting help. Accepting and receiving help when you need it—especially when you feel suicidal or in crisis—is an irrefutable act of courage. So much so that I printed it out and laminated it, hung it on the wall in my activity room on the unit I work on. If you ever need a friend, I am here if you need it. My socials are below. Also local artists or organizations- reach out so we can collaborate! My end goal would be able to secure a grant so I can do these things full time, or a place where I can have a brick and mortar mental health and public art space.
Mostly just remember that you are never alone and you are your own greatest critic—never doubt the fact that you make a difference somewhere in the world, and you matter to someone. I always say I love you to everyone, even if I don’t know them, because we should love our fellow human just because they are like us—deserving of love and appreciation just for existing.
Thank you to my family, my friends, my coworkers, my fellow artists, my roommates, and to Voyage Baltimore. I love you all so much.
Thank you to you too, reader. I love you—and I hope you find the AUDACITY to do so as well. <3
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.instagram.com/pennyforurlaine
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lobotomyworm/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/zoe.grimes.9
- Other: https://www.tiktok.com/@lobotomyworm
