garden city

i never wanted to do this
alone
but i am
alone
profoundly everlastingly
alone
there is no end in sight
i try to ask for help
no one listens
& i remain
alone
always
alone.

i never planned to have four kids by myself out in the country. i crave community & i crave contact. i crave a connection.
i am an introvert, and i enjoy my alone time. but this is different. this is ridiculous.
i am alone with four children.
and i’m not sure i should be a mom.
i’m so tired of being screamed at.
i’m so tired of being peed on.
i’m so tired of losing my mind.
who am i?
am i a monster?
why can’t i do this?

gardencity2

no one should be expected to do this. be alone. alone with children.
no one should be expected to do this.
but even when i lived in a housing co-op, with 30 other adults…i was alone. i would be struggling, right in front of them, my audience. i would be struggling–& they would turn away. often literally.

it’s not just me is it?
it’s us. as a culture. so cut off from one another.
i thought it was just because i never ask for help,
but they turn away even if i do.
and leave me.
alone.

gardencity1

galapagos

i was inking this one when i realized it is inspired by kurt vonnegut’s novel, galapagos. my brain is just chock full of stuff that erupts onto my paper. sadly, the information stuffed in there isn’t good for much more than that. trivial pursuit, jeopardy, and strange eclectic inkings.

i have been feeling desperately lost & lonely lately. very depressed. my kids have started labeling me as “sad.” like today they said it was “opposite day” and fidgit said, “so you aren’t sad today.”

talk about depressing.

so i’m a mess.
sad.
desperate.
lonely.
lost.

strangely enough…at one point today…i could not get the internet to work. i wanted to title my ink, but i could not remember the name of the novel and was unable to google it. so i texted like four different people, three exes & a sister, to see who knew their kurt vonnegut.
when i didn’t hear back from anyone, i started wondering if the world had ended and we were left alone to sort things out. i suggested this to fidgit–and he was good with it.

and i started to feel less depressed.

is that fucked up?

i’m less lonely if there is no one left to reject me or mess with my head or ignore me?
less lonely with facebook wiped off the face of the earth?

so…maybe i need to seriously curtail my attempts to find salvation through social networking…
i know,
you’ve heard it from me before.

but this time i am serious.

it is the end of the world as we know it…and i need a break from humanity.

and with that, i give you, galapagos.

galapagos1

a little back-up

i did many pictures on paper that is not exactly “good.”
i mean, i was just doodling.
just fucking around.
i didn’t expect that people would be actually buying these.

my cousin and friend and all around awesome person in my life requested to buy one of my INKtober creations. she was interested in ones that i actually did in my journal. i found the one she wanted, and was aghast to discover it had another one stuck to it–with ink? yikes. and the other one was another good one (not one of the crappy ones that i have made.) so i was determined to save them both. and i did. i steamed them apart and then backed them up with a heavier paper.

and i even spilled ink on some heavy paper to use as back up to make them that much more substantial. i think it worked out. i mean, they are journal pages…there’s a certain charm to that, right?

so then i decided i should back up all of the inks i have done on sketch paper. that’s what i’m doing today. i will put them up for sale for a smaller price. generally, i spend more time on the ones done on better paper. the ones done on sketch paper are often kind of goof-offs…but they often turn out so well that i wish i had done them on better paper. so here is my effort to remedy that. we will see how it goes.

too close to the sun

i was halfway through inking this when i realized it was a depiction of the story of icarus. i kept not liking it because i was like, “why are they all so upset?” then i realized it was icarus flying too close to the sun as his father watched in dismay. then i went ahead and found some of the backstory in the origins of the minotaur. this is the second time mythology has crept into an inking without my realizing it.

they are kind of like my dreaming. these inks. i just go with it, and when it is done, i’m all like, “oh. so that’s where my mind is.”

and apparently sheep are on my mind a lot. this is the third ink in a row with sheep in it. as i anxiously await more lambs and wonder what am i going to do with my lambs and how the fuck do you milk a sheep and i really need to build more pasture and i really need a boyfriend or husband or single mom to partner up with me and help me with all this….

and i continue to obsess about the one.
and then i obsess about my obsession.
do i want him back in my life because i am avoiding my own issues?
do i want him back in my life because i believe he is a missing element of myself?
is there such a thing as true love or is it all just a fabrication to sell flowers & diamonds?
am i silly to want him?
or am i brave?
can i be me…and still long for a man?

or is my wanting another relationship just my own example of flying too close to the sun?

tooclose1.JPG

 

something fishy

i have an over-tired toddler in my lap, and wordpress won’t load my image. it’s been doing that a lot lately. i don’t know if it is a bad internet connection or if the crazy energy afloat around me is blocking it. by the time you see this, i will have gotten my inking of the day to load, but i have been trying for awhile now to get it to upload. if anyone knows a solution to this problem….

i am popping popcorn and being kicked by a sleepy three year old who won’t go to sleep. i have bread dough rising and am having a beer. i’m not in a bad mood despite the grumpy minion. that’s different. usually–lately–i have been deadly pissy.

i am still trying to get my picture to load. it is a good one today. one i really like. i had fun doing it. i posted just the start of it on facebook last night and someone suggested it was already done. it was not. i thought of stopping for the interested party…but i could not. i am glad i didn’t stop.

my popcorn is not yet burning…but i need to melt some butter. poppy is still crying in my lap. still crying. but the popcorn is popped. almost every kernel…with minimal burned ones! i tried to milk a sheep into the popcorn bowl earlier today. so i had to wash that out. and i need to remember to buy a milk bucket…and learn how to properly milk a sheep…not just molest her.

popcorn buttered & salted, but my picture still won’t load. poppy followed iggy & the popcorn downstairs to the movie, but i don’t know if he will stay down there. he wants to watch a robot movie & they’re watching a pirate movie. maybe he will stay for a minute & give me a little break. maybe he will fall asleep down there & give me a big break.

this is my life. this is my art. sometimes i love it & sometimes i hate it.

i really wish this picture would load. usually by the umpteenth time i would be losing my mind. but for some reason i am all zen. maybe because my inking turned out the way i like them to.

success! it loaded. but you know that because you saw it already. do you like it? i like it.

 

the stuff of nightmares

so i was reading kurt brindley’s at art’s pointy end of the spear post questioning the artist’s role in times like these…to just art harder, more vigorously–or to art with purpose & message? i commented that my art falls flat when i try to do it with a message, so i hope that there is enough of my passion & my radical nature in me that they spill into my art and somehow my art has a message…if that makes sense.

today’s ink is an example of my congested psyche spilling onto my inked up page. i named it after the trump administration…the stuff of nightmares.

okay. so i don’t analyze my own art. not really. i mean i might see a significance in it, but i don’t go down deep with it. i actually switched to an art major from an english major because i got tired of being expected to break stories down and go over them with a fine tooth comb. fuck it. i just like to read. and i just like to look at art. i like to get a feeling from it. i like to feel the passion and emotion of the artist. that being said, i don’t really analyze my art.

however!

i do invite others to analyze it. as any of my therapists will tell you. i enjoy being analyzed. i was the fourth of six kids. i did not get a lot of attention from my parents. i am dying for attention (in a very cryptic way…cryptic attention, clandestine fame?) so i love for anyone to spend enough time thinking about me to analyze me.

this inking kind of creeps me out. the dragons in the sky…maybe it’s something that has haunted my dreams.

don’t look at my little heart

you haunt me.
21 years after i lost you
you still haunt me.
am i ridiculous?
why can’t i let go?
you did.
you left me.
even though i was the one
who got on the greyhound bus.
…every time i left you
i left you for someone
who wasn’t even half of who you are.
that should have said something
about how fucked up
i was.
and how much i wanted to destroy
myself.
when you left me
it was for a wife,
and some would say
you gave me too many chances
before leaving.
but in the end,
you did leave
and leave me
haunted.
if i ever had a heart
i lost it
when i lost you.
if i ever was
able to love,
it was only to fail
at loving you.
the universe’s way of kicking me down
when i boasted
that i didn’t believe in regrets
living my life without regrets
until i realized that my life is one big
regret.
regret…
i burned every picture
i ever had of you.
every
single
one.
cutting you out
and leaving myself alone
in an attempt
to get over you
but only making my regret
that much bigger
and myself
that much more alone.
haunted.