Wicasta Lovelace's life was shaped by navigating the complexities of undiagnosed autism, ADHD, and bipolar disorder for over six decades. Weighed down by severe depression all throughout his life, in 2019 he “accepted the abyss” of suicidal ideation but survived; “A decision was made, but never implemented.”
As an artist, writer, and musician, Wicasta's creative pursuits have always been driven by a desire to “give shape to the shadows and images; gotta voice all those weird fucking ideas.” He is committed to his artistic expression, intent on completing a lifetime of unfinished projects. “All I care about is finishing the work I started. I have to leave something behind to speak for me. Otherwise, it’ll be like I was never even here.”
While acknowledging the challenges of pursuing art later in life, Wicasta embraces the idea of finishing the unfinished. “I have no illusions. People my age don't start careers. But if there’s still something left unsaid, I’m going to say it.” He laughs, and adds, “I’m fucking old. I'm running out of time. Fuck it. Let’s get it done.”
Wicasta was born in Kings Mountain, North Carolina, but has been based in Saint Petersburg, Florida since 2007. He lives with his wife, Victoria, and their cat, Sabella. He attended Saint Petersburg College, where he earned two associate degrees; one in audio engineering and the other in computer programming.
He waxes philosophical on the meaning of it all going forward. “I stopped having expectations in 2019. Once you’ve decided to kill yourself, that stays on table, you know? So you find ways to keep going. You live with that shadow. What I create from here on is about that. I’m defying the abyss. We’ll see where it goes. I’m really fine if it goes nowhere at all. Some days just breathing is the win; being above ground. You take the win. You keep on going. And you go until you’re stopped.”
“A fake image based upon a real image, a blend of real and imagined, but that’s close enough to me that I'm comfortable using it. Besides, how do you know I don’t have a mech suit and spend my weekends hunting my enemies? Yeah, it’s a fake image based upon a real image. But isn’t that what we all are? The fevered imaginings of diseased minds? None of us are actually how we think of ourselves, though we’re enough bits and pieces of it to pass for bona fide.”
(Turns out it's much harder writing copy about yourself than you'd think)
Copyright © 2026. Wicasta Lovelace
