in my next life

i have let you go
so many times
i am not sure
i know how
to hold on
i have spent so much
so much
of my life
trying to get you
out
of my heart
what if the door
has finally
closed
but it’s okay
you know
it’s okay
if you never come back
if you never
come back to me
i always have my next life
i know in
one of these lives
i will get it right
in my next life
surely
you will be
mine.

originally posted on february 9th, 2018 & a blatant rip-off of egon schiele

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another one for the invisible exhibitionist…. my exes can all fight about which one of them this is about because since writing this, i have decided i do not want to see any fucking one of them in my next life. they all can just fuck the fuck off. i plan to enjoy my next life–free of narcissistic assholes.
i like how just turning the smile up a tinge gave this a whole different look…i look like a dreamy fucking twat who would totally wait lifetimes for assholes.

i might need a nap…or some whiskey….

so i watched the 80’s movie tootsie with my boys last night. it was way way better than i remember it being.
i didn’t remember all the feminist awesome-ness of it. i didn’t remember the main character being such a womanizer & doing a 180 when he began pretending to be a woman (due to being such a devoted character actor, i’m assuming.)
i totally didn’t remember the scene with bill murray’s character coming home to stop the co-worker from raping dustin hoffman’s character and dustin hoffman saying, “there is nothing funny about sexual assault,” when bill murray’s character jokingly calls him a slut.
a good movie to watch with one’s young adult children…even though there is an occasional “fuck you” (PG rating though!) …but it’s not like my kids don’t hear stuff like that out of my potty mouth (what? no!)

so there is my 80’s movie review for this post….

speaking of inappropriate behavior from men, it has been drawn to my attention that a certain ex in-law of mine has been reading my blog–probably in order to stalk my sister or just to be icky.
so i just want to say–knock it the fuck off. try being a decent human being for a change.

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all of me

i just wanted to see
if i could fill up
a page
with me

originally posted on february 1, 2018

another one for the invisible exhibitionist.

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i have been sick all week. plus i did a 10 hour roadtrip to a small iowa town & then did a four hour roadtrip  with picnic & half-assed hiking the next day to pick up the minions.
i totally want to move to that small iowa town…but am having trouble finding a rental or other living space…. i’m trying to trust & to not freak out about it.
but i am freaking out a little.
which makes my head cold that much worse. & my minions are also sick. so i am not able to rest much.
i have not been drawing or writing much at all in the past week. i’m tired. i’m so super stressed out sick. oh–& i have the menstrual cramps real hard.

i have been wanting to re-do “all of me” for awhile. it’s one of my favorites. i like how it turned out.

whispered love spells

yesterday as i was driving
i don’t know why
i played & replayed
the song “loverboy” by billy ocean
i do not know how many times
i listened to the song
feeling a pull in my heart
painful & yet…
i kept playing the song
crying along to the lyrics
feeling the pain of it
but enjoying the pain of it?
being an empath
i am never sure if i am feeling what i feel
or feeling what another person is feeling…
in this case, i guess, billy ocean
but
i kept playing that song
then i looked up to see that the semi-truck in front of me
had a sign on the back of it
a picture of a beacon with the word “beacon”
yesterday i wrote about how my heart
has become a beacon
my heart is a beacon…but
i have not taken down the walls
around it
so i am kind of like a lighthouse
warning of the rocks…
i wonder
how do i take down
the walls
how does my heart
become a beacon
of welcoming?

i am still accepting patrons (just a dollar a month!) over on my patreon page where you can read my whispered love spell and see the entire page of this gustav klimpt inspired inking (yay!)

also, two more pages of “stolen,” my art journal adventure as i explore a past life as a kick-ass celtic warrior queen.

broken people

i’ve always loved the broken people
always always
i am drawn to them
but not like a moth
to a flame
because i am also the fire
my own all consuming
damage
at least as deep
as theirs
at least as bright
as theirs
i love them because i think
they will understand
they will know me &
they will love me
because i am like them…
thing is
when both of you
are broken
who is picking up the pieces?

this was originally posted on july 3, 2018. it was inspired by the song “broken” by lovely the band.

i can’t decide which one i like better. i think i like the original better. it’s creepier. and the leg splay is awesome. but i do like the rouge i put on the second version.

an open book

he says
i never told him
why
when actually
he just never
never listened
to all the times
& all the ways
i did tell him

i have always
been
an open book
that no one wants
to read
i make the words
louder
the pictures
brighter
only to have my cover
snapped
shut
that much quicker

i try so
so hard
to be seen
to be heard
fearing the attraction
i have never gotten
but craving
that
validation
so badly
so fucking
badly

this was originally posted in may of 2018. i re-did the illustration. now it is another finished piece for my the invisible exhibitionist project.  it was based on an egon schiele painting.

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….)

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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