art in response to fuddy duddies

i had a clash with one of my publishers. i was trying to be a supportive friend in his time of crisis…but then we totally clashed on a religious plane. he is an atheist, & i am pagan. i was willing to accept his position–he was not willing to accept mine.
so i got pissy.
in my defense, a friend of mine drank all my beer so i have no salve for the rabies in my brain.
i got in a big text fight with dusty on the same day.
sometimes i just really need a beer….
anyhoo
i have found that atheists tend to be even more intolerant of other ideologies than christians are.
& this dude proved me right once more.
sigh.
but it has worked out. he has become my un-a-muse-d.

circles

the free store i started is a month old now. it is packed full of goodies. so many awesome people donating.

i have only noticed one problem.
all the accolades i have been receiving have triggered my impostor syndrome & sent me into some serious dark & downward spirals.
weird, right?
like when people tell me i’m doing a good thing, i feel like i am somehow fooling them.
when one woman said, “way to pay it forward,” i flinched. of course, for me it is not about karma. it is about giving the people what they need; keeping crap out of landfills; putting one over on the man….
but am i a good person for doing it?
i don’t feel like a good person…
then i start to wonder…if my art took off, would i suffer in a similar way? spin out to a dark & devastated place where i fear everyone will realize i am actually a fuck up in sheep’s clothing?

however, i can’t help hoping all the spinning i have been doing will leave me standing still

illustrator for hire

on wednesday, i go in for a job interview
at the local food cooperative
you know,
working with food
which i am super qualified to do
but
do i want to do it?
yesterday
dropping the reins in a show of frustration
i put iggy & fidget in charge
& took the day off to just draw & draw
& think
wouldn’t it be so super awesome
to get paid
to just draw
& draw?

some of what i drew, is over on my patreon site. a couple of pages of a moses jones study as i get ready to do more pages of my favorite dystopian zombie fighting mama….

frog song

i will miss
the frog song
in the pond
outside my window
if the universe
is listening
& the universe
is kind
could i find a new home
where i can
hear
the song of frogs?
is that asking
too much…
i hope
that is not asking
too much…
a place by water
water
is magic
frogs
are magical
& i
need
music
for my heart
to sing
along.

the best part of spring…the frogs singing on the pond in the backyard. there is even a laughing frog that calls to me when i hang out clothes. i will miss that & am hoping that i won’t have to miss it.
light a candle
say a prayer
hope for a home with frog song.

i put an ad in the iowa city craigslist. i am hoping to find–it doesn’t have to be perfect–but a good place for me & my minions.

meanwhile, i got a copy of “bad faeries/good faeries” by brian froud and am having fun finding inspiration in its amazing illustrations.
this one was requested by misha.
she asked for three grumpy days, & i avoided doing it for three grumpy days, but i finally did it late last night & loved how it turned out.



ding dong

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….
anyhoo.
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.
yikes, right?
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”

stolen & fetish

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
(am doing)
with “fallen”
the story of a 40ish mother who realizes
she is the devil
“stolen”
is a realization
of a past
life
experience

done in my art journal like my other pages
like my other
self-portraits
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
going on
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?

(a dollar a dance…i mean, a dollar a month, gets you full page access to these projects and my undying love. yes, a mere dollar a month. that’s like 3 cents a day. surely i am worth 3 cents a day….)

meanwhile….

this is my playing around with a bamboo pen. i did it awhile back, but realized i had never posted it. i thought it looked kinda cool…so.

meanwhile,
my day is filled
with my day job of artist
on demand
for some
demanding
children,
fists full of magic markers,
shouting out scenes
for me to draw.

color me goofy

i cannot get anything done today. seems i am chained to my drawing desk. doing art on demand so misha–& now poppy–can have pages to color. this is what i get for refusing to buy coloring books….

so when i suggested that instead of drawing me & dusty riding a swan, i could draw poppy & misha on a swan, poppy shouted, “i get to be in front!”
misha refused to compromise.
so i drew me & her dad–and i made sure that i got to be in front.
ha!



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