make me yours
pull me under
for you are
after drawing this i realized it looks a lot like a portrait of my mother that hung on our wall all through my childhood. a portrait from when she was young & full of hope? was my mother ever hopeful?
after finding myself so angry at the chaos around me. goats jumping fences. chickens digging where i can’t have them digging. then escaping when i try to pen them. goats jumping other fences. children. children. children being children.
maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.
embrace the chaos.
do not fight it anymore.
let the chaos embrace me.
don’t ask about okcupid.
it’s gotten ugly.
that might just be me. feeling the angst of shallow waters. wading around when i want to be deep sea diving.
speaking of shallow places, i am back on the facebook. but for a good reason! remember my illustrations for mistress of mud? (if you don’t, there is a link up yonder)
so i illustrated a book for a friend, and that book is ALMOST ready for me to publicize & promote! yay!
but i had to go back on facebook to do so.
don’t worry…i will do it here as well.
i watch the snow fall
“i love the snow,”
i say quietly
and try to keep from
i battle the demons
inherited from my
down one-way streets
“i want to live,”
i try to convince myself
i feel in my heart
and i continue my journey
to keep my heart safe from dusty, i find i have to remember things i would rather forget.
some of you were with me during the really really awful bad terrible fucked-up hello kitty catastrophe.
you know, when dusty started dating a 30 year old in a hello kitty backpack while he was living with me?
how she would come to our apartment & hide in the bushes & wait for him? how she would write graffiti about the two of them on the bike paths around where we lived?
how she gave him a phone so they could “sext” each other?
how he would sneak off to see her & leave me alone pregnant…with a newborn…and his three other children?
how i would happen across the two of them…how i developed an anxiety whenever i left the house that i would see them somewhere, together?
how i would constantly find fucked-up little gifts & notes from her to him on our front step or hanging from the trees around our home?
how he refused to leave madison with me & the kids because he wanted to stay near her?
this is what i have to replay in my head.
the cold way he would look at me when i happened upon them somewhere near our house, embraced.
the way he shoved me when i tried to find out what was going on between them & behind my back.
sitting alone in a courtroom waiting to find out what would happen to me for having a public & profane breakdown.
finding out, too late, from people i thought were friends that this had been going on when i was being told it was not.
this is what i am trying to recover from. among other things. meanwhile, dusty keeps trying to creep back in. still blaming me & telling me what a cold heart i have for not loving him.
i’m tired, y’all.
i’m tired of doing everything alone as he watches & complains that he isn’t being included when i would love to include him–but instead feel it necessary to protect myself from him. i never wanted to do this alone. every day as i struggle to take care of four kids & homestead & have time to myself to do art & to try to keep from losing my mind but losing my mind because i never seem to get time to re-charge because there is always something that needs doing…someone who needs me….
i really like this self-portrait.
i think i should take the ones i feel strongest about and do them on a good watercolor paper. this one…i really like it.
ps. so i worked on this last night while watching the netflix original movie a futile & stupid gesture based on the life of doug kenney (who founded national lampoon)…. i totally recommend it. it made me both laugh & sob–which is my criteria for a good story. it also made me think that maybe it is a good thing that i am largely unrecognized for my art, etc. i mean, these depressed & damaged people who make it big & realize that it fixes nothing & end up killing themselves because they still feel like failures….
so today i am thankful that i have never been successful enough to feel like an utter failure.
holy crap, y’all
i got a little addicted to the okcupid.
i jokingly told my kids that it was my favorite
i would go to the profile of someone
i had more in common with
& very little uncommon with
and i would read through their answers
to those random
fucked up questions
i think i lost two days?
depression, loneliness, & online dating
my idea was
i would find someone sane
to date, fall in love, & rule the world with
and i looked at all these guys
while giving some vanilla (vanilla for me)
to hard questions
(some i did answer more hap-hazardly)
hoping to find mr. right-minded.
you know the guy who
lets me be as crazy as i need to be
but is there to catch me when i fall.
i messaged some of those guys.
so then one night i come across the most bitterly
& admittedly not-right-in-the-head profile
and i’m all like
i love you!
&, of course, not being right in the head
i message him this.
not even the crazies
are crazy enough
to date me.
but enough about me.
here is page two of my graphic novel moses jones: apocalyptic mama. i haven’t done any art in the past couple of days due to binging on okcupid & then crying myself to sleep, but i hope to do some tonight. maybe a new page of mojo? so those of you who have never read it, take a peek. there is a link up yonder. and if you feel like collaborating &/or dating & running away with me. give me a holler.
(“rosanna” by toto just came on my mix, so i’m guess that that is a sign that the one crazy enough to sweep me off my feet is near 😉 )
ps. i put this photo of me awkwardly playing with my bokken on my okcupid profile…bad idea or good idea?
maybe this is what happens when a comic artist
i like this. this is page one. i haven’t figured out page two yet. i have been too busy obsessing over on okcupid.
dammit! i so said i wasn’t going to do that!
fucking loneliness. and the more i read about other people the more i become convinced that i am an anomaly and that the only person who is going to embrace me & my lifestyle is the grifter/drifter character (played by both paul newman & don johnson) from the movie/mini-series the long, hot summer.
so that’s what i’m looking for now.
here’s a funny one. i got messaged that women like me used to be worshipped and the said messenger would happily cast rose petals at my feet & worship me accordingly as his queen.
i love messages like this. i was all ready to message back:
yes. i used to lead armies, burn cities, and demand the sacrifice of first born sons…but now i am trapped in illinois with four kids & no money or viable options for romance. fucking karma.
however, on okcupid, you now have to “like” someone in order to message them & i was unwilling to like this guy because he saw meteor showers as a waste of time & would never go for a walk in the woods or on a road trip.
so what did he think our chances were? did he even read my profile?
silly internet dating.
the guys i do like do not message me back. (sad face)
but it is kind of fun digging through the brain closets of random strangers via not-so-well-thought-out multiple choice questions.
that’s all i got right now.
disillusionment & dead chicken comics.
aren’t you glad you’re following me?
so much hope
so much possibility
but how smudged
as it sits & waits
for its purpose
ugg. i forgot how annoying it is to have to put panels on a page. i need to re-think this. sure, there is probably a program or something for doing this digitally that takes like two seconds, but i am a chisel & hammer type of gal, y’all. i am a luddite. i like my pen in hand and the possibility (probability) of human error.
i have it paneled. the first page of emperor ming: one chicken’s dance with destiny
ha! i just came up with that. but it’s catchy, yes?
so the goats have figured out how to just walk right out & over the fence that is supposed to be electrified but is not yet electrified and i am left in annoyed awe of their intelligence.
agatha & quixote met me at the back door to say “hi!” before i escorted them back to their pasture–again.
agatha has also started jumping the fence to go in the pasture with luke (the ram) and buttercup (a pregnant ewe.) then luke starts chasing her (to fight or fuck??) and agatha gets pissed off & rears up into that intimidating goat attack pose before lowering her head to very lightly butt heads with him.
ruminants are weird.
but so lovable.
and whoever had money on my not being able to keep from stalking over to okcupid to look at profiles & answer questions–you won!
i found my first trumpette match. scary scary. i know there are trump supporters in theory…but in reality it is so so so disconcerting. this guy was spooky too. and of course, physically attractive. dammit. couldn’t white supremacist fucktards all be just as unattractive on the outside as they are on the inside? that would simplify things.
most guys i am matched with have a notation that they will not date trump supporters. that is the world we live in now. politics have merged with dating.
also, i put some of my art on my profile…good idea or bad idea? they’re going to find out i am crazy sooner or later. may as well do it with art, i figure.
there…see…that feels better.
maybe the beer helped.
i took my time and enjoyed each line.
my heart wide open
my heart is wide open
i can feel love everywhere
blowing in the
i sniff around
smelling the heat of it
in the air around me
is wide open
i wonder if i should
lock it away
i wonder if i even
so this has been going on for awhile. each new connection with a person excites me. like falling in love. like my heart is that thing they have in submarines checking around for shapes in the water & going “blip” when it hits something.
that’s poetic, right?
blip goes my heart screen when it senses someone…a kindred spirit.
i’m not sure what to do about it. do i let it keep searching? should i keep getting excited with each possible spotting? with each blip of my heart?
i’m having no luck on the internet dating. i know it’s been all of–what? three days? i am just going to think of it as setting out the bait & checking back if i hear something go snap.
instead of obsessively checking it & reading profiles and answering 10,000 personality questions in hopes of finding that perfect match.
my profile is up.
i will either get a bite or i won’t.
plus, i think i have either terrible luck or choose the wrong guys. so i am trying to see who chooses me. i have messaged a couple…no reply.
i know i’m pretty. i know i’m smart…i also know i am irretrievably strange. so maybe there will be no takers?
in other news:
1.) agatha…& maybe quixote, have figured out how to get over/past/around the new fence if they feel compelled to do so.
goats are a pain in the ass…but, like my minions, i would not trade them. i love my goats as much as they piss me off sometimes.
i am going to put a permanent pasture up where i have the temporary fence as i have the woven fence in a place where i cannot properly electrify it.
do i ask dusty for help? or do we learn how to do these things without him?
2.) i spend an extraordinary amount of time & energy every day getting my four year old into costume. he wakes up before the sun with a costume in his hand demanding my assistance. lately it is a full body ninja outfit which means he then needs my help to take it off when he has to pee. then back on again. then off when he decides he is no longer a ninja. then back on again.
seriously. i am going to lose my fucking mind.
again. i love my minions…but this one won’t take “no” for an answer, and i can only tolerate about an hour of shrieking before i give in.
3.) so what’s the deal with freckle haters? (speaking of answering 10,000 personality questions) what do people have against freckles? i have answered at least two questions about whether or not i like freckles & how my potential partner should feel about freckles. what the fuck, y’all? what is not to like about freckles?
to quote my mother, “freckles are kisses from the sun.”
y’all should be so lucky to date a freckled goddess.
4.) and i had to break down & buy some beer. hops. hops calm me down.
i had to fucking calm down.
5.) i totally drew a picture to go with this journal entry…but i am still out of sorts & it is totally affecting my art. so i am not posting the picture because it super sucks enough that i am unwilling to share it. is that a first? that might be a first. i think i am going to watch lovesick on netflix & try to doodle out of my funk.
holy moly i am so out of sorts.
it’s a january thunderstorm. i quit drinking & facebook all in the same week. i’m already feeling all rejected by the men of “okcupid”–though the men there do seem way cooler than the men of “plenty of fish.” my kids are on overdrive and i keep thinking, “if i can barely deal with my life, how can i ever expect to find someone to jump in & be all–yes! this is what i want.”
other than dusty, who would jump back in in a heartbeat. which is a tempting thought sometimes when i am lonely & frazzled and then i have to remind myself of all the crap he has done to me. all the crap he says to me. and the crap i feel like when he is around.
and my berkey water filter has quit working.
all while i’m reading future home of the living god. reading books, as an empath, is risky. i get waaaaaay way too into the plot & characters and actually lose myself.
so i am currently lost in a dystopian nightmare.
and my end-of-the-world water filter has gone kaput.
i am so out of sorts.
i’m trying to draw this comic, but my kids are so super needy. plus there is laundry & dishes & food to make.
and i am crawling out of skin.
did i mention the winter thunderstorms of doom?
okay. here is an okcupid story to cheer us all up.
someone from the small town i live in messaged me via okcupid to tell me i should check out his profile and told me how he had read mine twice before he messaged me.
so, hey, he’s not physically my type, but i go check out his profile. first off, i see he is looking for a woman who owns a pair of heels and actually wears them–who dresses up every now & then.
the highest heels i own are on my motorcycle boots.
then he goes on to say in the “message me if…” that a woman should message him if she agrees that she should wear stockings & heels in the bedroom.
he says he read my profile twice?
i go on & on about sustainability in my profile & refer to myself as punk rock.
i don’t have on any make-up in my photos…i don’t even know how to put on make-up. my hair is short & messy–like it always is. (i’m assuming here that if he wants a woman to dress up every now & then he probably expects make-up and hair done.)
and in the “6 things i can’t live without” section, i have listed as my number one thing: barefeet….
what woman who values barefeet would put on heels ever–especially in the bedroom??
why would dude think i was his type at all?
why not just have “message me if you are a warm body”?
internet dating is so weird.
re-cap: end of the world, y’all, and my water filter is not working & i am still alone & lonely.
plus i have no beer.