lincoln tree & sheep fingers

a reader of my blog asked the very important question of where the fuck did these sheep fingers originate anyway (to paraphrase.)
here.
this watercolor done years ago, titled “lincoln tree & sheep fingers” (& available for the low low price of $85)
why did i arbitrarily give the sheep human fingers for legs? i guess that is a question for my psychotherapist…if i were to have one…. however, to answer why i continue to do them–it’s because the swirlyness helps ease my rabid mind. and the fingers help the cynical & creepy part of me feel okay with the cuteness of sheep.
and i do love sheep.

my most recent inking of sheep fingers

old people with animal parts–now with added color

in preparing art to be sold, i wanted to see if i could add color to these & sell them. problem is, they are on illustration board…so the ink kinda soaked right in. i tried to work with it…. i do like the way they turned out though.

art in response to fuddy duddies

i had a clash with one of my publishers. i was trying to be a supportive friend in his time of crisis…but then we totally clashed on a religious plane. he is an atheist, & i am pagan. i was willing to accept his position–he was not willing to accept mine.
so i got pissy.
in my defense, a friend of mine drank all my beer so i have no salve for the rabies in my brain.
i got in a big text fight with dusty on the same day.
sometimes i just really need a beer….
anyhoo
i have found that atheists tend to be even more intolerant of other ideologies than christians are.
& this dude proved me right once more.
sigh.
but it has worked out. he has become my un-a-muse-d.

love letters & mermaid memories

i know y’all have been missing my so-called poetry….so here’s one i wrote yesterday (since i have not yet gotten my mojo pages in order….)

i am not going
to mail
this letter
i am not going
to hit “send”
blasting
my words
like confetti
in a storm
something that my primate brain
can accept
but can never
understand
so easily
&
instantly
bathing my victim
in my obsessive loneliness
despite his being many miles
away
many worlds
apart
from me
how many times
have i written this letter
how many people have looked away
as i exposed myself
pen on paper
fingers on a keyboard
my stupid message
in a stupid bottle
my longing to be heard
to be understood
by some
warm
body
somebody
am i special
to think someone
could love me
an impossible
thing
that comes so easily
to everyone else

sheep fingers

i’m sending off the bits & parts that will hopefully become confusion perfume & other neurotic comics published by tara caribou’s raw earth ink.

i guess i will be re posting all of the moses jones pages next? y’all ready for that? maybe i’ll hook a publisher for it as well….
i also need to try again at the sustainable arts foundation award for artists & writers with children. it opens on february 1st. i am thinking i am going to submit my latest pages of moses jones.

meanwhile, here are some sheep fingers for you to enjoy…they are good with ketchup.

buy more art

i updated my store page here with some more recent inkings…i am also trying to get up the nerve to put things in a physical space here in driftless wisconsin…. we’ll see how that goes.
i mean i bought sleeves and everything…i’ve even put some of my art into the sleeves….
though i can’t figure out how to price them & want to just put a sliding price tag on….

my kids think i’m an awesome artist….

speaking of damaged masterpieces…

when i did this american gothic self-portrait in my art journal last summer, i did it with some free verse about corporate farming.
however,
as i draw & paint a final draft of it today, i feel like it is a commentary on patriarchy.

i really love love love how it turned out. i worked really hard on it, praying the whole time i would not fuck up nor would i be attacked my crazed minions. at one point misha was chasing bluejean around my feet as i worked, and i had the foresight to step away and wait for her game to move away from my desk.
my art skills seem to be cooperating with my ideas these past few days. (thank you art fairies!)

so
mansplaining and the whole phenomenon of men just feeling the need to tell me how to live my life. men thinking they know me better than i know me.
fuck a duck, y’all.
i might be lost, but goddammit i am not asking a man for directions.
as much as i love y’all for having cocks & all–don’t act like one.
i will burn this motherfucker down.
i’ve got the match.

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