be the monster

three quarters of my face is my favorite face.

i just read that people who are raised with trauma as the norm get freaked out when things are not stressful.
i think i am in that place.
right not.



i am feeling
instead of killing
i fall
in love.

i have been thinking a lot. go figure. it’s my favorite past-time.
this week, i took two of my lambs, my first two lambs, and i learned how to butcher them.
i had so much anxiety leading up to it. dread. serious contemplations on vegetarianism.
then the time came, and i was fine. i was more than fine. i was doing things i never knew i could do.
and it made me think about how emotional detachment has always been part of my damage…but sometimes…sometimes…it really comes in handy.
i started thinking about “dysfunctional life skills.”
the things we learn in order to survive a fucked-up childhood or an abusive relationship. those weird super powers. sometimes they cause us pain…other times they save us.
i want to explore this more.
but right now i am binging on jessica jones
and wondering why i am so attracted to the character kilgrave. is it just because he is played by david tennant? or is it another part of my damage to seek out other darkness? or is it just that i am empathetic to a fault and want to save those other damaged souls?

an empty house leaves too much time to think.

year of the dog

when last we left off with our hero, she was slaying zombies in the forest while foraging for supplies….
actually, i started a new episode after this called “the return of dusty.” but it puttered out.
i have been trying to get it re-started…but i really don’t think i want dusty in my story anymore. i think it is time to write dusty out of the script.

which i did, last night. i have yet to draw it though.

meanwhile, the real dusty is threatening to come visit. i am torn. while i wish i lived in a world where i never had to see him or his hell-spawn of a mother again…i also hate the idea of my minions going away to wisconsin again to spend a week with him & his hell-spawn of a mother again.
it is one of those things i have severe anxiety/control issues about. i mean i became a stay-at-home mom when i realized i could not leave my child at home. instead i was taking baby fidgit with me when i went out to pick up stray animals. he was sitting in on dog evaluations with me at the humane society where i was employed when he was born.
realizing i could not leave him, i quit my job.

i know i cannot control their lives. it just seems dumb to let him take them to wisconsin when he doesn’t even know what the fuck he is doing with his life.
he is taking my minions to live in his limbo.
it just seems dumb.

so my choices are to let them go…or deal with dusty in my space.

fuck a duck.

so i am currently trying to figure out which hurts less….

in other news. i am having a crisis of faith with my art.
i guess that’s not really news….
today i tried to read a comic book & found i could not. comic books seem dumb to me now. maybe not all of them, but definitely the mainstream ones.
i tried to post my page that i made yesterday (archangel carl) on a facebook group called “women creating comics” along with my lament about my crisis of faith…but as soon as someone started suggesting things i could do to make my art more “acceptable” to the comic world, i deleted my post & almost quit the group.

what would van gogh do?


oh! i almost forgot! (thank goodness for blog titles)
so we recently entered year of the dog. i was born in the year of the dog. i looked back, and other than my 12th year, i could remember having a life changing event in every year of the dog since my birth. maybe there was one when i was 12 too–i just can’t remember for sure. in retrospect, every decision i made in my years of the dog were the wrong ones.

so this year
this year
i am determined to get it right.
to be true to myself and to stay true to my path.
whatever it may be.

so with the first full moon of this lunar year…i am struggling to find the path that i have determined i should stick to….
wish me luck.


something completely different

so i can’t just go from point A:  inspiration to point B: execution of idea.
for me it’s more like “oh! i have an idea!”
but first i have to water & feed the livestock
do dishes
start laundry
make breakfast
wait, i have time for a shower
now i have to clean up after breakfast
now! now i can sit down & draw out my idea….
(which of course is when someone needs help with something)

sometimes this destroys my creative flow…other times it creates an atmosphere of percolation where i mull over the idea in my head as i
do dishes
take a shower
until the point where i know exactly how i want to execute my idea.

so i have been bothered by this for some time. people who tell me it is inconsistent for me to believe in climate change while questioning vaccines and genetically modified foods. it occurred to me this morning that there is more than one kind of science. this is just an observance…not a well-researched thesis. however, as i see it, there is natural science (how a rainbow happens, what causes a hurricane, why climate change is real)…and then there is what i want to call “man-made” science (plastic, cloning, strip mining & pipelines). i mean the human pursuit of science often falls on the wrong side of “just because you can do it does not mean you should do it.” and i think this is probably caused by man thinking his science is superior to that of nature. he takes something natural & perverts it to meet his needs.

it’s a thought in progress. bear with me.

so i have had four pregnancies. the first two ended with doctors convincing me i was unable to give birth & cutting the baby out of me.
with my third pregnancy, knowing my body wants to go to at least 42 weeks and hearing doctors say they would not allow me to go past 41 without interventions…i quit doctors. i had two home births. and the babies came out when they were ready. after 42 weeks. healthy, normal, and with the bodies of babies born at the right time.
so this started my journey from what convention & mainstream would call “rational” to what i am today–someone who prefers to trust my instincts and question man-made science.

i believe in science. nature is science. fucking around with science is humans trying to beat nature. but we have created this culture where you are not allowed to question anything remotely “science” or you are ridiculed as a crackpot.
fuck that.
question everything.

look where not questioning what we are told by “scientists” has gotten us.
look at the general health & state of mind of the united states.
look at the state of our climate & our environment.

rant done.

ps. i am not going to argue this with anyone. i believe in my instincts & my intuition, and i am not ignorant (though admittedly not an expert) on these topics. if you don’t agree with me, that’s all you.
take care.

psychotic plunking on a xylophone

i forgot what i wanted to say
or maybe i said it already?
poetry in my mind is gone
by the time i find a pen
pictures in my head
won’t translate to the paper
like all i can do
is fuck it up
trying to write
to draw
the magical music in my ear
but all i manage
is the psychotic plunking
of a xylophone
i’d be a genius
if i knew what i was
trying to

without feathers

without feathers
i watch the snow fall
around me
“i love the snow,”
i say quietly
and try to keep from
without feathers
i battle the demons
inherited from my
relationships taking
wrong turns
down one-way streets
“i want to live,”
i try to convince myself
i feel in my heart
intense hope
and bottomless
and i continue my journey

to keep my heart safe from dusty, i find i have to remember things i would rather forget.
some of you were with me during the really really awful bad terrible fucked-up hello kitty catastrophe.
you know, when dusty started dating a 30 year old in a hello kitty backpack while he was living with me?
how she would come to our apartment & hide in the bushes & wait for him? how she would write graffiti about the two of them on the bike paths around where we lived?
how she gave him a phone so they could “sext” each other?
how he would sneak off to see her & leave me alone pregnant…with a newborn…and his three other children?
how i would happen across the two of them…how i developed an anxiety whenever i left the house that i would see them somewhere, together?
how i would constantly find fucked-up little gifts & notes from her to him on our front step or hanging from the trees around our home?
how he refused to leave madison with me & the kids because he wanted to stay near her?


this is what i have to replay in my head.
the cold way he would look at me when i happened upon them somewhere near our house, embraced.
the way he shoved me when i tried to find out what was going on between them & behind my back.
sitting alone in a courtroom waiting to find out what would happen to me for having a public & profane breakdown.
finding out, too late, from people i thought were friends that this had been going on when i was being told it was not.

this is what i am trying to recover from. among other things. meanwhile, dusty keeps trying to creep back in. still blaming me & telling me what a cold heart i have for not loving him.

i’m tired, y’all.
i’m tired of doing everything alone as he watches & complains that he isn’t being included when i would love to include him–but instead feel it necessary to protect myself from him. i never wanted to do this alone. every day as i struggle to take care of four kids & homestead & have time to myself to do art & to try to keep from losing my mind but losing my mind because i never seem to get time to re-charge because there is always something that needs doing…someone who needs me….


i really like this self-portrait.
i think i should take the ones i feel strongest about and do them on a good watercolor paper. this one…i really like it.

ps. so i worked on this last night while watching the netflix original movie a futile & stupid gesture based on the life of doug kenney (who founded national lampoon)…. i totally recommend it. it made me both laugh & sob–which is my criteria for a good story. it also made me think that maybe it is a good thing that i am largely unrecognized for my art, etc. i mean, these depressed & damaged people who make it big & realize that it fixes nothing & end up killing themselves because they still feel like failures….

so today i am thankful that i have never been successful enough to feel like an utter failure.

hey, who left my heart open?

my heart is wide open
maybe too
i can feel love everywhere
blowing in the
i sniff around
smelling the heat of it
in the air around me
my heart
is wide open
an uncomfortable
but not
i wonder if i should
lock it away
i wonder if i even
how to.

so this has been going on for awhile. each new connection with a person excites me. like falling in love. like my heart is that thing they have in submarines checking around for shapes in the water & going “blip” when it hits something.

that’s poetic, right?

blip goes my heart screen when it senses someone…a kindred spirit.

i’m not sure what to do about it. do i let it keep searching? should i keep getting excited with each possible spotting? with each blip of my heart?

i’m having no luck on the internet dating. i know it’s been all of–what? three days? i am just going to think of it as setting out the bait & checking back if i hear something go snap.

or blip

instead of obsessively checking it & reading profiles and answering 10,000 personality questions in hopes of finding that perfect match.
my profile is up.
i will either get a bite or i won’t.
plus, i think i have either terrible luck or choose the wrong guys. so i am trying to see who chooses me. i have messaged a couple…no reply.
i know i’m pretty. i know i’m smart…i also know i am irretrievably strange. so maybe there will be no takers?


in other news:

1.)  agatha…& maybe quixote, have figured out how to get over/past/around the new fence if they feel compelled to do so.
goats are a pain in the ass…but, like my minions, i would not trade them. i love my goats as much as they piss me off sometimes.
i am going to put a permanent pasture up where i have the temporary fence as i have the woven fence in a place where i cannot properly electrify it.
do i ask dusty for help? or do we learn how to do these things without him?

2.)  i spend an extraordinary amount of time & energy every day getting my four year old into costume. he wakes up before the sun with a costume in his hand demanding my assistance. lately it is a full body ninja outfit which means he then needs my help to take it off when he has to pee. then back on again. then off when he decides he is no longer a ninja. then back on again.
seriously. i am going to lose my fucking mind.
again. i love my minions…but this one won’t take “no” for an answer, and i can only tolerate about an hour of shrieking before i give in.

3.)  so what’s the deal with freckle haters? (speaking of answering 10,000 personality questions) what do people have against freckles? i have answered at least two questions about whether or not i like freckles & how my potential partner should feel about freckles. what the fuck, y’all? what is not to like about freckles?
to quote my mother, “freckles are kisses from the sun.”
y’all should be so lucky to date a freckled goddess.

4.)  and i had to break down & buy some beer. hops. hops calm me down.
i had to fucking calm down.

5.)  i totally drew a picture to go with this journal entry…but i am still out of sorts & it is totally affecting my art. so i am not posting the picture because it super sucks enough that i am unwilling to share it. is that a first? that might be a first. i think i am going to watch lovesick on netflix & try to doodle out of my funk.