R'homan Skin Elements

Some love stories aren’t loud.
They don’t rush.
They don’t perform.

Some of This, Some of That is a four-book series about love over time —
from young connection,
to second chances,
to truth,
to building a life that lasts.

This is a story about choosing each other honestly.
About healing without erasing the past.
About family that’s built on intention, not assumption.

All four books are complete.
Digital editions available now.

A love story told the long way.
By K. M. Lewis.

📞 RETURN TO SENDER / SPIRIT PHONE

Every Monday night, I’ll be sharing two things with you for the week ahead.

The Spirit Phone and Return to Sender.

The Spirit Phone represents intuition, guidance, and ancestral wisdom.
It’s the reminder that messages don’t always come through noise — sometimes they come through stillness, gut feelings, memories, dreams, or that quiet voice that keeps tapping you on the shoulder.

When the phone rings, the question is simple:
Is your mind open enough to receive the message?

Each week, I’ll share a message meant to ground you, steady you, or gently shift how you move through the days ahead. You don’t have to force it. You can receive it, sit with it, or come back to it later.

The Return to Sender mailbox is about release.

It represents anything we’re done carrying — a word, a feeling, a situation, a belief, a pattern, or energy that no longer belongs to us. Once it’s returned, we don’t keep rehearsing it. We don’t keep feeding it. We let it go.

Each week, I’ll name something we’re collectively returning to sender.
You can write it down, say it out loud, or simply acknowledge it quietly to yourself.

If it resonates, you’re welcome to share your word in the comments — or keep it private and still participate in your own way.

This isn’t about perfection.
It’s about intention, awareness, and choosing what we carry forward — and what we don’t.

📞 Receive the message.
📬 Return what no longer serves you.

We’ll sit with it all week.

They’re made to be felt.

This is one of those pieces.
Along with others from my collection,
they’ll be in the room where the real ones gather.

📍 Trans Art Mart
🗓 December 14

If it speaks to you, it’s for you.
If it doesn’t — keep moving.

— R’Homan

StreetSpiritual SacredWork PhiladelphiaArtists ArtWithIntention ForTheOnesWhoKnow

WATCHING YOU WATCHING ME by R’HOMAN

She is the girl who feels every eye on her — the ones that adore, the ones that judge, the ones that mimic, the ones that gossip, the ones that stay silent until it’s safe to speak.
Her halo of symbols and colors is the language she never says out loud — coded emotions only the spirit can interpret.

Every mirror you glued on her canvas becomes another watcher, another mouth, another witness.
Not judging — just reflecting.

She stands as the center of an invisible crowd, a star-faced muse glowing in her own technicolor pulse.
People don’t love her right, can’t love her whole… but they watch. They watch the joy, the glow-up, the reinvention, the self-styling.
They watch the feelings swirl across her aura before she even names them.

She is a walking frequencies test —
If you watch her out of love, her colors bless you.
If you watch her out of envy, the mirrors return what you give.
If you watch her out of curiosity, you see yourself.

The stars in her pupils are not fantasies —
they are warning lights.
Indicators.
Truth detectors.
Because she sees while being seen.

She is watching you watching her watching you.

A hyper-vibrant R’homan portrait in mixed media: acrylic, mirrored shards, enamel charms, gold accents, and symbolic graffiti.
Star-filled eyes stare forward, reflecting the layered experience of being observed, judged, adored, and surveilled — spiritually, socially, and digitally.
Mirrors placed around the composition create a loop of endless gaze: the viewer becomes both the watcher and the watched.

This piece blends pop-art innocence with metaphysical self-awareness and street-style symbolism.
Bright lips, affirmational charms, and geometric shapes amplify its message of reflection, perception, and emotional sovereignty.

Two new spirits walked out of me tonight.
A King. A Queen.
Blue as midnight, sharp as protection itself.
I didn’t plan them… they just arrived.
Energy work.
Art work.
Shadow work.
All at once.

Introducing Night at the Museum by R’homan
👑✨

Love to see ya🛒🛍️❤️

This ain’t no “maybe one day” moment.
This ain’t no “I hope people like my art” moment.
This is real, it’s documented, it’s public, and it’s stamped.

Life Is A Game of Chess by K.M. Lewis
📚 Copyrighted.
📚 Registered.
📚 Library of Congress.
📚 Google-searchable.

My name.
My story.
My blood on the page.
My art in the world.

For years, life took and took and took from me — homes, cars, people, love, stability, peace.
But this right here?
This is the part of my life NOBODY can take.
I wrote my way through trauma, rebirth, heartbreak, confusion, silence, and survival.
Now it lives in the world as proof that I made it out loud.

And while all of THAT is happening…

I’m officially opening:

THE DIGITAL VAULT: R’HOMAN PRINTS FOR THE SOUL.

Visuals I created during my healing.
Textures pulled from my spirit.
Colorwork born from nights I didn’t think I’d make it.
Afro-surreal, emotional, vibrant, spiritual, intimate — all downloadable for you to print, altar, frame, or keep close.

And on December 14th, I’ll be at Trans Art Mart
selling:
✨ new resin pieces
✨ new scents
✨ new prints
✨ my self-published books
✨ and the work I’ve quietly been building behind the scenes

The water has been moving LONG before the splash.
Every night up working, creating, crying, healing.
Every whisper, every sketch, every scent blend, every page.
And now it’s rising to the surface.

I’m tired. I’m overstimulated. I’m overwhelmed.
But I’m still showing up for my art… because my art keeps showing up for me.

This is more than a book.
More than art.
More than a moment.

This is legacy.
This is rebirth.
This is K.M. Lewis, fully claimed.

Shop the vault.
Watch the journey.
Witness the work.
And if you feel led — support the artist.

Google me. The story’s already out there.
Now watch the next chapter unfold.

🖤♟️✨

Lately, I’ve been creating just to keep from breaking.
Resin, smoke, silence — whatever holds me long enough to breathe through another day.

Yeah, I got things to celebrate… big things. But truth be told, I don’t even feel like celebrating me right now. I’m just existing. Trying to survive. Trying to keep showing up for a life that keeps testing me.

I pour out into art because it’s the only space that listens back without interrupting.
It don’t ask questions. It don’t judge. It don’t disappear when I need it most.

So if you see me posting my work, just know it’s not about attention — it’s about healing in plain sight. I’m still grieving, still exhausted, still here.

**kItImHere