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….)

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checking in

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.
it’s nice.

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 don’t know what i’m doing

in the mid-90s i was all set to go to school
to study
animal husbandry
i was living with my folks to save money
but then
they did what my folks do best
& i was all
fuck y’all
and got in my car & drove off
leaving my dreams of college behind

flash forward to the fucking mania that convinced me i could just wing it.
i don’t know what i’m doing.
this cute thing showed up this morning & i’m just thinking, “god i hope i don’t somehow kill you–or inadvertently cause your death due to my own ineptitude.”
i don’t know what i’m doing.
both the babe & her mama are looking like they have no clue. i’m looking like i have no clue.

the clueless homestead, that sounds about right.
i need a hunky shepherd with the patience of an oak tree to come and rescue me–i mean, assist me.
stat!

meet my little friends

i was asked today about my bamboo pen & realized that i should probably have a reference page on my blog to all my materials, sources, inspirations…but failing that, here is a look at some of my art supplies that i use on a daily basis. (yes, i have three different kinds of black ink, why do you ask?)

and! if you act now, you can become a patreon of me & my little friends.

on that note, i did type up the beginning stirrings of my soon-to-be hit novel and series on netflix, fallen.
it is available to anyone willing to be my loving patron.

doodles

i have written eight art journal pages since last night
eight art journal pages in my new journal
but i have yet to draw me…
i am having a bit of a creep day
(radiohead would understand)
and drawing requires
a more delicate touch
or maybe i will just go with the thick
black
angry
lines
that are bound to happen when
inking while angsty….
however
the drawings will come
as i have decided
one
cannot
do
too many self-portraits.
so stay tuned, my lovelies….

some doodles for those of you who think i’m a one trick pony…haha…i got lots of tricks…i am a tricksey hobbit.

to do list for the week of no minions:
illustrations for another writer’s work
pages of moses jones
self-portrait art journal pages
the invisible exhibitionist
chasing ghosts
maps! maps! maps!

see? very tricksey

i really should shower more often

so i got up this morning
as usual
way earlier than i would want to
to feed & water the critters
and also the livestock
as i drank a cup of coffee
i read the works of
other
writers
and one story i read
started an itch
in my brain
i was both envious
& inspired
but the idea did not leap from my skull
fully formed
until i was in the shower
where it sprung
along side ideas for a journal page
& plans to finally finish my patreon page
it sprung
the first chapter of my
novel form of
fallen.
(duhn duhn duhhhhhhhhhhnn)

so, yeah. i really need to shower more often.
also, i will update you on the patreon page.

image is a throwback thursday done in ink & pastels

rick springfield is my patron saint

this is a journal page from just over a year ago, one of several horned images of myself i have drawn

so i was on the third season of lucifer & feeling guilty about binging on a network tv show when i realized that it was based on a neil gaiman character (one of my favorite male writers) thereby relieving me of my guilt.
the tv show has inspired thinking points for me in my latest embracing of my darkness via my “fallen” series.
and then today
after having a friend put 18 hours of music on a thumbdrive so i had music in my car, i realized i had forgotten all about rick springfield.
so i went to google him and realized he has seemingly been creating non-stop since the 80s–when i listened to his music because my big sister was in love with him.
his latest album the snake king, has angels, demons, god, the devil, and the underworld all through it.
huh.
it’s pretty dark & pissed off & has a twangy sound to it–which is not what i expected.
but this is not a review of rick springfield.
it is my own wondering about how when you start looking at the world in a different way, the world is only too happy to comply by dropping crumbs in your path.
being a recovering catholic, i have been both drawn to & repelled by my own darkness as well as any dealings with demons & devils.
since embracing them…new doors are opening & i am being shown the threads that bind us all together.
or, at least, i am listening to rick springfield & thinking deep thoughts.


the dead of winter

after a quiet start to winter, central illinois got a snowy blowy storm that dumped like 8 inches & then sculpted those inches into knee deep drifts that have turned my yard into an obstacle course requiring a workout just to get to the goats & ducks.

also, i had to dig out my driveway, both for the mail delivery person as well as for my own plans to ever leave the house. i don’t have a snowblower or a plow. i did it by hand & was more than impressed with how strong i am as well as how fit yoga has kept me. i don’t even have a sore back.

this morning we got the added element of frosting on all the trees & bushes & anything sitting still enough to be frosted.

homesteading blues

as i try to figure out
where i want to be
who i want to be
who i am…
shopping for a new home
means leaving behind some things
i love
but regret i could not love
enough
once upon a time
i was a girl with a gentle spirit
who loved animals
but that spirit was cruelly
broken
& now i am so conflicted
am i a homesteader?
or an urbanite?
can i be both?
can i live without
wide open spaces?
can i thrive
without a ready
community?

i cannot imagine myself staying here without going completely fucking nuts…but when i go to list my critters on craigslist, i struggle to imagine a life without them.
except that it would be a life with less things to worry about.
and that does sound nice.
but no geese wandering through my front yard? no goats taking care of the lawn for me? no ducks randomly flying onto the roof? no turkey to be ambassador to my property?

of course, i have no where to go right now. i just know i cannot stay here. i looked into intentional communities, but all of the ones equipped to house a family our size, are way way too expensive for this mom who does not prioritize income.

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