confusion perfume…the book

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….
what?!?
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.

tomorrow?
(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.

what’s the opposite of rolling with the punches?

so…i’m no longer living on a bus!
y’all–i managed to get off the bus!

me & the minions have a house in a quaint neighborhood of a quaint town in wisconsin.
and! i claimed a room as a room of my own! except for the pet rat, the dog, and being also a space for books & puzzles…i have a room that is all mine for writing & drawing & just staring out the window!
so that’s nice.
but i have flunked out of therapy…not before reprising my list of ideals for a romantic relationship, however.
next on my list of “what i want”…that guy who won’t make me feel like crap.

& then, also on the list of things i desire (after a roof & a man) is a job doing what i actually want to be doing.
i am working outside the home for the first time in forever….but the honeymoon is over on the new job.
now i just want to sit at home & draw…and write…and go for walks & on bike rides…garden a bit…travel….
sigh.

though i forgot about INKtober, as sarah of fresh hell pointed out to me, every day is kinda inktober for me. actually, ever since INKtober 2016, i have been covered in ink.
it’s a bit scary how much i have drawn in these last three years.
i should have a book…or something.
but, no, i am not exactly rolling with the punches….
i feel like a complete failure as my patreon page whispers softly to me, “my god you suck….”
& in other areas of life, mother–(crap…am i anything other than a mother???) i am also sucking suckiness.
if you want to confirm this for me (my failure as artist, writer, & mother) feel free to check out my patreon page.

so there is my way past due update, dear reader…

ps. i do not have internet (but would accept it as a gift) so any online postings are sporadic at best

this is my life

i was squatting in a stream this morning to wash the mud out of misha’s clothes when i thought
“this is my life”

how did i get here?
which twists & turns & choices made
led me to this place

i am both grateful for a place to be
to figure out my next step
& anxious
about where that next step will take me.

to help support my journey in exchange for art & writings by me…check out my patreon page.

today on my patron page i share two art journal pages & my recent brush with misanthropy & theories with how isolation feeds a dark part of one’s soul.

surviving myself

i’m staring out the window of a bus
a bus parked forever more
in the hills of western wisconsin
clouds, forests, wildflowers, birds, & bugs (so many bugs)
are right outside my window
& all i feel
is paralyzed
trapped
unable to move forward
because renting requires income
getting a loan requires income
& i am on a bus
with four kids
my ex-husband trying to lure me
back to him
back to life
in an apartment
with him
& each day
i think a little more seriously
about committing
that crime
about sacrificing
myself
to make sure my kids
have a roof over their heads….
i just wish i could look at this amazing view
& feel free
& feel inspired
& feel hopeful
instead
of feeling
doomed
but right now
i have no idea
how to be
that person
how to be
anything
but miserable
& alone.

so i do still have a patreon page where–in theory–y’all could help with my income issues….

though i am not posting as much as i usually do as i am struggling with depression right now as well as the instability of being homeless–er, between homes, rather….
but i will try to get pen to paper & get some new posts up over there soon.

on the road again

from the flatlands of illinos
to the rolling hills of wisconsin
squatting
both literally & figuratively
in the wild driftless region
waiting for fate
to open a door
(or window)
to a new home
for me & the minons

i am still doing art. mostly doodles. and writing in my journal to keep myself sane as my whole world is turned upside down…in a good way…but still terrifying.

every which way

tomorrow i pack it all into a uhaul and head to wisconsin
tomorrow i begin a new adventure
amidst a new moon
& solar eclipse
& the anti-versary of a molestation
that happened
the very same time
as my beloved dog
becoming lost & eventually found dead
leaving me
with no one to comfort me
these same group of days
that my father’s birthday
falls into
this will be
the first dead father birthday
my emotions are a whirlpool
a tornado
hope & despair spinning fast
as i run away
again
from my childhood home
believing i will find an answer
on the horizon.

the above is a postcard sent to a patron for their support of my patreon page. the following are examples of art to be found on my patreon page.


this is what a mother looks like

i asked my kids
if
after i died of throat cancer
from screaming at them
if they would remember
what i said.
they answered “yes”
…but only because they didn’t really
listen
to what i was
saying
i’m not sure how to feel…
my throat hurts.

don’t ask how the packing is going…just…don’t ask….

these are images i did for a watercolor class some years back…a week of illustrations of how i felt as a mom. things haven’t changed too much.

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