untangled

my body
after being my ride
for fifty years now
is
finally
learning to relax
muscles & nerves
unwinding
after
a lifetime
of knot
a childhood
spent
on high alert
tangled
became
my baseline
as i waited
for my worst case scenario
to come true
now…
with yoga
body work
art journals
& the odd meditations
now
i am unwinding
softening
opening
&
maybe?
am ready
for a best case scenario.

so my book confusion perfume & other neurotic comics is officially available from amazon.
sunday, i will be hanging my self-portrait series in the community center of this small wisconsin town.
so little…but so fucking much.
if i don’t relax, i might shatter into a million pieces…so, yeah, good thing i’ve finally figured that out.

cool blue

i am
a deep
deep deep
clear
cool
spring-fed
pool
of water
with my sun sign
in cancer
i am a place
to relax
& replentish
i am calm
until
i am
a tidal wave
a hurricane
a tsunami
with a moon sign
& rising sign
in scorpio
i can become
a storm
like you have never seen
until
i am
again
a calm
clear
cool pool.

this is a visualization that came to me while getting body work done. i guess more on my current state of celebrating the balance in my life.

corrupt

i would like
to stop
feeling despair
when you
leave me
in my dreams
i would like
to stop
feeling despair
when i wake up
& stare
into the abyss of
single motherhood
& the severe lack of options
for said
single mom…
as children scream
& i slowly lose my mind
i think
“surely i am from
corrupt stock….
damaged dna
&
surely
your genes
are just as deeply
flawed
resulting in said
screaming
mind-blowing
children….
if only
this person of despair
could go back
in time
& counsel the me
before you….”

bad bit of mothering these past days…. but, before you judge me, come live in my house for a week.
my minions are off with dusty for the week, & i slowly recover my lost mind.
hopefully enough to do more sound mothering in future days.

nightmares

even in my nightmares
i wonder
at the pain
i feel
of losing someone
i have
already
let go of….
i said goodbye
to him
but in my dreams
when he says
goodbye
it hurts
like a thousand
knives
a dream i have
too often
his cold eyes
looking away
his ears
deaf to my pleas
his touch
a forbidden
never again
& i feel
such
profound
dispair
even though
when awake
i do just fine
without him….

i’m trying to figure out why i keep having this dream. in my experience, when i have the same dream over & over, my subconscious is dead set on letting me know something.
so why do i have dreams of dusty leaving me even though i have buried him a thousand times now?

sage advice from my mum

don’t!
touch bird feathers
you’ll get lice
don’t!
walk barefoot
you’ll get tetanus
don’t!
feed strays
they’ll never go away
don’t!
forget to do your kegels
you’ll be incontinent
so….
even though
i’m not so good
at following directions
i still worry
about
lice & tetanus
as i run around barefoot
collecting bird feathers
& i still feed those strays
though i know
they really will
never
go away
but!
i have faithfully
done my kegels
through childhood
& into adulthood
before–during–& after
four pregnancies
&
you know what
i still occasionally
pee my pants
however
i have always been
very popular with the boys
(thanks, mom!)

first a journal page about my sacrum & now i’m on about my kegels (& benefits of)
i did draw a medicine card of an inverted blue heron telling me that i need to come up for air & take a break from being deep in the self-analyzing fun ride i have been on for…for how long now? forever it seems.
so maybe i just need to journal about my kegels.
or that’s what’s happening anyway.

in other news…

the freestore i started last winter is open again!

i am starting a writer’s/artist’s group on monday…

my art show (the invisible exhibitionist) is going up this weekend?

& my book is due for release on october 1st.

i’m only freaking out a little. okay. so i am super-dooper freaking out & my imposter syndrome feels like i am about to step off a cliff & spiral downward into the abyss…but, you know, otherwise…exciting stuff.

tea party with demons

the voices come
& the voices whisper
“you’re fucked.”
it’s my nightly meeting
with my demons
they’ve come for a tea party
butter on toast
(monsters love toast)
it’s a thing
every night
the whispers
& epic songs
telling of my ultimate
& fanatastic
failures
i love my demons
i do
i might even miss them
if they were
gone
miss their nasty
little
whispers
& predictions
of doom…
but no worries
they are always
close by
to keep me
company.

a few beers & witchery with a friend had me singing this out about my demons. what is light without dark? what is good without mischief? i do love my demons. they keep me on my toes.

highs & lows

i am happy…
or is it just mania?
a high following a low
what is normal
i wonder
i feel
happy
like everything
is falling
into
place
& the life
i imagined
is finally finding its way
into
reality
will i crash again
tomorrow?
what is normal
i wonder
knowing i love
the ups
& downs
& would never trade
my chaotic
everyday
for a medicated one
of flatlines
& no stories
to tell
no poems
to write
i will always choose
paint splattered walls
over
white ones.

a thought i had while talking to a friend diagnosed with bipolar disorder. what is crazy? really… i mean, is it just a matter of riding out the ups & downs? i’ve always valued the fuckedupedness of my life for it’s giving me fresh perspectives & sparks in my imagination.
maybe i’m crazy…but i wouldn’t trade it for the world.

once upon a sacral chakra

as my sacrum
awakens
after such a long sleep
i find old feelings
&
new ones
too
unworthy
shameful
imposter
but also…
powerful
magical
creator
my sacrum is a plant
needing
sunlight
&
nourishment
before blooming into
an amazing
vibrant
fragrant
flower
i cannot forget
to water her
& repeat to myself
“i am worthy.”

i have been working on opening chakras. i try to keep my heart open & remind myself, “i am valuable.” and now i am also working on keeping my sacral chakra open & telling myself, “i am worthy.”
once upon a time i was very confident in myself as a sexual being despite my catholic upbringing. but steady abuse by men as well as motherhood made me hide that light deep deep inside & feel ashamed of it.

feeling it again is so nice. re-claiming it gives me all kinds of power.

the magic is mine

it is me
not them
the magic is mine
not theirs
but
i give it away
too easily
(it is mine to give)
then i start thinking
that the magic
was never mine
to begin with
when
really
the magic
was me
& wherever i happen
to leave it
it
never
leaves me.

my illustration kinda mirrors the other goddess one i did a couple days back. it’s how i am feeling lately, i guess: open.
as someone who has spent a lot of her life feeling she needs to have walls & trenches & guards alert always…it is nice to feel open.
i do prefer the open feeling.
even though it can make my guards pretty itchy.

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