there were like four more pages of confusion perfume…however, the wonderful tara caribou is planning to publish my comic with a couple other of my comics in a book due out later this year….
yes, it’s true.
while there is no news on my short story collection, tangled together, which was supposed to come out in 2019…now, out of the blue, i have a different book coming out in my medium of choice: comics!!!!
so fucking exciting.
by the way, should there be a publisher who wants to tackle the short story collection, i think i can safely assume my other publisher has jumped ship.
anyhoo. the last four pages were a change of pace for confusion perfume, less levity…more dark & scribbly. a short story about 9-11-01 that i turned into a comic using berenice beaumont (my character in confusion perfume in case you are just tuning in.)
and i decided not to post them to give y’all a little mystery. plus! tara has requested i write little ditties like i like to do, explaining/rationalizing/analyzing my work. so i am totally having a blast doing that.
also…maybe brand new never seen before pages????
so what now?
well, today, we have quixotic postcards i made years ago at a ‘zine fest when the printer did not have my order of postcards ready & i had to make some up on the fly.
(or the next day if tomorrow is too hectic)
pages of my comic in progress: weener coop
& by in progress, i mean, i really do plan on getting back to it one day because i think it is totally fucking awesome.
today is the eleventh antiversary of the day my big brother was murdered by the political party he spent his life working for.
above is a pastel i did in memory of his & my relationship.
below is a poem i wrote on the fourth antiversary of his death.
when someone close to you
it becomes part of your description
she has brown hair
a nice smile
and her brother is dead
birthdays are the hardest
his last one
I didn’t know
it was the last
his voice sad on the telephone
my pledge to keep in touch
we live in a world
where I can obsessively search for
intimate details of his death
available in short video
gray matter spattered on a playground
his last words, “oh fuck.”
notorious IT guy for the other side
the “Forrest Gump of stolen elections”
everything reminds me
the sound of a single engine plane
sad songs on the radio
politics, Christmastime, and charismatic men
I drink Irish whiskey this time of year
but it was Scotch at his wake
four years now
four years since the last election
four years since the plane crash
a conspiracy theorist’s wet dream
murder Republican style
when someone close to you
do you let it redefine you?
hello. I’m Connell
a mama, a student, an artist
let me tell you
about my dead brother
while trying to convince the dad to move away
leaving a “commonwealth” scam
leaving a doorstep haunted by a predatory woman
leaving a sadness that soaked my bones
just leaving, i begged
i tried to to convince the dad to move away
far away from his predatory “other woman”
he would not leave her
i agreed on a rental that would not be open until
the end of
summer of 2015, between homes
crashing, house-sitting, visiting relatives
only to land again
in my own
i have been thinking of that summer, if only to remind myself that i have been “between homes” with four children before…& survived.
i am hoping that this time i do not land again in my own sadness.
the dad has been trying to convince me to come live with him again….
what insanity would that be?
i have broken free of him & to give up that freedom would surely mean the end of me…
but, i might have to turn to him for temporary shelter. i am trying to find other options, but having a safe place for the minions to be trumps all other concerns. & where the minions go….
i’m trying to be excited about a change, even an uncertain one. i mean, i am excited about it…but also worried sick. i turn every scenario over & over in my head. i do everything in my head, first, preparing myself for anything unexpected.
this is how i survive.
to help support my traveling circus & our search for a forever home, check out my patreon page where i am working on character development of a comic book hero who has been in my head for about five years now….
and being a patron of mine of the $5 a month or more, gets you personalized art postcards like these:
i was at the doctor’s office yesterday as i have been avoiding a physical for a number of years. you would think after four kids & not even knowing the number of people who have seen my lovely crotch in baby related matters…i wouldn’t be fazed by having my lady bits cranked open & ogled…but maybe one never learns to enjoy that experience….
my doctor–literally–said to me, “tell me about your mother.”
it was everything i could do to not launch into a re-enactment of the scene from blade runner...you know the one–and if you don’t, you better get the fuck to a library & check that movie out (the original one.)
i can’t remember where i was going with this.
so my dead dad was going to be shipped back to illinois (aka the place where i live) to be buried with his family in the local catholic cemetery. i have had a stress headache about it since monday. i have been cleaning (i hate cleaning–it seems i do not have a domestic bone in my body) & dreading the descending judgement of my family who would be returning to our childhood home & how i would be viewed. bracing myself for enduring snide little comments about cobwebs & dust & having microwaves & coffee makers (i also hate most appliances other than blenders) brought from the basement to clog the counter space. and do i need to take down my pagan alter & put away my art & witchy things?
then this morning i got word that my mom has decided to cremate him & keep him in texas.
i suspect she is doing it as a last ditch effort to keep him away from his mom whom she was always jealous of & who is buried in the cemetery he was headed for….
but! whatever reason that crazy lady has for keeping my dad in texas, i am grateful.
when i heard my dad had died, all i felt was relief. like the scene in wizard of oz…then dread when i realized that his death meant i would have to see my family.
though i am lonely & isolated, i am not so desperate for company that i would relish a visit from my family.
knowing my little world is safe once again, i feel at peace.
either i am the most awful person in the world…or…i dunno. maybe i am the most awful person in the world.
ah well–fuck it.
oh, & here are snippets of projects available over on my patreon page…an art journal page plus the final page of “fetish” & two more pages of “stolen”
(i don’t know if anyone ever notices…but i often use movie quotes or mangled movie references in my posts. it amuses me. this one is from robocop (the real one) in reference to clarence saying, “guns! guns! guns!” man, i love robocop….)
so, idle hands being the devil’s playground…or something like that…. i am, at least, keeping busy despite my mental breakdown.
so yay for that.
over on my patreon page, you can find the full posts of an except from my novel-in-progress: chasing ghosts
i’ve been working on it for over 20 years now, so you know it’s good.
also! i am finishing up illustrating benjamin davis’s story fetish. one more page to go on this installment. hopefully he & i will continue working together, & i will be doing more in the future.
and, as always, my adventures as the invisible exhibitionist continue via my art journal self-portrait series.
in addition to working on a collaboration
with benjamin davis
of his story fetish
an illustration i am doing
using my bamboo pen & ink brush
i am working on turning part of me
into a fiction story
a lot like i did
the story of a 40ish mother who realizes
she is the devil
is a realization
of a past
done in my art journal like my other pages
like my other
but different in that one day
it will be a full-length story.
i am pretty excited about it
though as i am inking yet another treasure map
while my fetish pages dry
i realize i have a lot
and expect myself to totally keep up
with all my projects
and i wonder…what makes me think
i can do all this?
who is that
part of me?
i have been working on getting my patreon page up & running. i have posted several times for my patrons.
i totally have two patrons!!! yay!!!
i was thinking. for those of you who are as poor as me. if you have a way to do trade, i would totally do that. like i be your patron & you be mine? something like that…i’m trying to figure out a way to be accessible while also making some income.
it’s just a boost to know someone thinks my arts, writings, and random ramblings are worth anything.
also! i am applying for the sustainable arts award for mother writers & mother artists. it’s a nice award, and the best part is how much i realize i value myself when i fill out the application telling them who i am.
meanwhile, i have gotten to second base with my goat magdalene. she is producing lots of milk which i share with her kid, claudia. claudia gets one teat, i take the other. so i have fresh goat’s milk for my tea.
in other news, i had a weird thing happen last week which i am just getting to in my art journal.
an epiphany? a moment of enlightenment? a breakthrough?
at the very least, a new story, similar to “fallen” in being a fictionalized telling of something real to me–this time about my most formative past life.
so…become a patron & you can hear all about that.
or, just talk to me on google hangouts, & i’ll tell you all about it.
here are some teasers for my patron page:
including a journal page about my little voices and one about my imbolc meditation on longing (for my work on the healing wheel.)
and two pages of illustrations for a collaboration i am doing with benjamin davis on his story fetish.
the image is based on my childhood memory of making my first ever comic series on a chalkboard in my basement. a version of “hey diddle diddle” where the members of the nursery rhyme were some sort of soap opera.
i have been thinking
i added another tier to my patreon page
a $1 tier where i can post my art journal pages
works in progress
& sneak peeks
which means i will not be posting as much here
it’s an exercise
in taking myself seriously
and trying to make a go of my dreams
but as a girl
who always gives it away
and who doesn’t mind
giving it away
loving the idea of a world of trade &
a world where money is not an issue
but today i have to buy
clothes & shoes for my kids
buy food for my pets
buy art supplies so i can keep doing art
spend money to support
other artists & writers
(also, one day soon, pay rent &
the bulk of my posts
will be over on my patreon page
for one dollar a month.
i understand if this is too much
i totally get it.
but maybe, just maybe i can get some patrons
& then be able to afford to do the same
for my fellow
artists & writers & crafters of all types.
whether you join me over on patreon or not, i really really really appreciate your support.
& i’m not disappearing from here, i just have realized how much energy i spend on this site and wonder what would happen if i put that energy into trying to earn money for my art.