everything happens

everything happens
whether there is a reason or not
everything happens
whether you like it or not

i started this picture a couple of days ago
it started out as yet another self-portrait…but i kinda morphed into some stephen tyler androgynous fairy person. then i didn’t know what to do about the background. if i had finished it that day, it would have been a completely different picture.
if i had finished it yesterday,
it would have been a completely different picture.
this is my day, today. my fairy heart is being devoured by the cat of angst.
or…you know…whatever.

so i was given a printer by a friend. and i used it instead of the camera i usually use to capture my art…but i am not sure what the fuck i did wrong. this looks weird to me…& fuck ups that i can’t see with my eye are showing up.

maybe i did the settings wrong?
maybe i will get this figured out?
or maybe it will just stay like this for now?
i guess we will find out.

*i did fix it…so if you are all, “wow, that does look like crap”…no, that’s just my art*

but do know this.
everything happens.


embracing chaos

embrace me
make me yours
embrace me
pull me under
embrace me
for you are

after drawing this i realized it looks a lot like a portrait of my mother that hung on our wall all through my childhood. a portrait from when she was young & full of hope? was my mother ever hopeful?

after finding myself so angry at the chaos around me. goats jumping fences. chickens digging where i can’t have them digging. then escaping when i try to pen them. goats jumping other fences. children. children. children being children.
maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.
embrace the chaos.
do not fight it anymore.
let the chaos embrace me.

don’t ask about okcupid.
it’s gotten ugly.
that might just be me. feeling the angst of shallow waters. wading around when i want to be deep sea diving.
speaking of shallow places, i am back on the facebook. but for a good reason! remember my illustrations for mistress of mud? (if you don’t, there is a link up yonder)
so i illustrated a book for a friend, and that book is ALMOST ready for me to publicize & promote! yay!
but i had to go back on facebook to do so.
don’t worry…i will do it here as well.

frankenstein’s monster

i thought my soul
was calloused over.
that they could do
no more
to hurt me.
i guess a mother’s
or lack
grow too old
to be affected by.

no, wait, this is my favorite self-portrait. it’s me, as frankenstein’s monster. i am really happy about this.
the motivation, not so much.

my parents plane takes off in 25 hours and 30 minutes. i have barely survived. my anxiety has developed its own anxiety.

but i have not killed them nor myself.
there is nothing like having the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally
the ONE person who is supposed to love you
no matter what
there is nothing like hearing her say to you
“you are a bad person”
or her calling you an “asshole”
& a “stupid-ass”
& an “interloper.”

it has been eye-opening. and healing in its own weird way to realize where all this low-self esteem comes from.
and, of course, tons of material for an upcoming tell-all memoir.

jekyll & hyde

no one tells you
how hard it is
to be both a mom
& a real person
that those flaws
you have
as a real person
just become
as amplified as fuck
when you become
a mom
because a mom is
both more than a real person
& less

so a trifecta of mom journal page self-portraits today…but my demons are still not exorcised.
i feel bad for my kids…but i wonder if someday they will feel bad for me.
i am trying. i really really am. some days go better. some days i am able to be a so-called real person.
other days…

this is the second one today that borrowed from a famous novel.
first i was gulliver…now i am dr. jekyll.
(or am i mr. hyde?)


you never wanted to do this
you never wanted
to do this
you feel so lost
so angry
& you suffer that pain
as you tell yourself to hold it together
(you don’t)
as you tell yourself to keep a happy face
(you don’t)
all you want to do
is break things
& scream
& scream
& scream
until your voice is raw
until your eyes are dry
because you have nothing
left to give
all you want to do is sink
into depair
in despair
but somehow
somehow you have to

more motherhood angst leaking from my head & onto my page.
yay! but, you know what? it keeps my head out of the oven.

misha pointed out that iggy doesn’t have a face in this on or in the previous one. i’m not sure why. subconscious–would you like to weigh in?
what? nothing?
iggy is a very challenging child. it doesn’t help that he is the one most like his father.
his father.
the reason for a lot of my angst.
he checked out the first time i got pregnant. he was no longer the center of my universe, and he turned from mr. perfect into mr. perfect asshole.
yet somehow i still had three more children with him.
and now i am raising them alone.
because he has just become more & more perfect
at being an asshole.

being a single mom sucks ass. it truly does. but living with dusty sucks bigger ass. so while i am living the lesser of two evils–i’m still pissed off about it.

no poetry

i am not a poet
these are not poems
it is just
that i have spilled
my angst
all over the page
vomited my emotions
with pen & brush.

this was my yesterday epiphany–expanded upon.
i took a photo before i used my brush on it, because i wasn’t sure if i liked it better without shading & color.


but i think the color worked okay.

good news! i have been very angst-y & especially reflective with all the trauma i keep vomiting on myself. so that means i have 4 pages written in my journal that just need illustrating.
so we all have that to look forward to.

turn out the gaslight

he drinks from my glass
instead of getting his own
he says he would be in a good mood
if not for me
he accuses me of “gaslighting” him
& i wonder
or do i know
that he is gaslighting me?
he hurls words at me
words i said
stories i told
when i–in a state of delusion–
trusted him
he saves up the words i give to him
like ammunition
to strike me with
as his mask falls off
& he embraces
the person
he claims he no longer is….

yeah. things are not going well with dusty being here. two weeks now. every morning i am grateful for the help.
by nightfall, i hate him.