rubble

how many times
will i be deeply
wounded
how many times
can i
be deeply wounded
before i
turn into a pile
of rubble
or maybe i will
become
that meme worthy vase
that grows stronger
with each break
& each
repair.

i do not have internet at my house & was unable to google what that vase is called.
now, upon googling it, i find it is actually a bowl & is called the art of precious scars: kintsugi
the art of precious scars
my scars are precious…to me…& apparently i like to show them off to you….

okay. so speaking of my precious scars scars & how i express my wounds through art & writing….
i need to figure out how to make money or how to attract patrons to my work aka promote myself (i’m sure i’m not the only one)
ack!
i am running out of savings. my house still needs a heating system. & i loathe the idea of just getting a “job.” i tend to wither away working in most environments (i am a fucking delicate flower, y’all)
i do not need luxuries–i do not own a tv. internet. smart phone. lawn mower. refrigerator. washer. dryer. or a number of other “luxuries.”
i am totally okay with not making a lot of money…but i do need some income. you know, for like heat & food?
so how do i make money without compromising myself…&/or how do i become more (shudder) marketable?

feel free to talk amongst yourselves….

(if you read yesterday’s post, i referenced my spilling of blue ink…this is the one i was working on while holding an open jar of blue ink…oops)

stalemate

change comes from within
no one
can change me
just like i cannot
change them
i am not going
to change a world
that is only interested
in changing me
some sort of
cosmic
stalemate
& all i can do
is walk away
from the game.

more thoughts from my most recent breakdown/breakthrough…funny how those two things happen back to back. breakdown…breakthrough….

two thoughts on this inking.
1) what is my deal with sweaters?
2) i was working on the page opposite this one–absentmindedly holding an open jar of blue ink–& just forgot i had open ink in my hand. drips galore.

in plain sight

i fall apart
in plain sight
where no one
can see me
you think by now
i would have learned
to stuff
everything
down
to not make a fuss
but
no
i fall apart
in plain sight
where
no one
will see me.

i lived in a housing co-op of over thirty people. i had two kids when i moved out; i was pregnant with my fourth when i moved out.
i mistakenly let my ex-husband also move into the co-op where he made my life a living hell.
i had multiple break-downs.
anyhoo! sometimes i would be struggling with my children & losing what little mind i had left, on the verge of crying or straight up crying in a room full of people…and no one would do a thing to help me.
they all just pretended it wasn’t happening.
which is a perfect mirror of our society.
we pretend the ugly/uncomfortable things are not happening. i am sure i am guilty of it too.
& it just fucking sucks ass.

(those of you who see a person hurting & reach out to them–y’all are amazing)

ps. this inking was inspired by the view from my front porch. i love my new house 🙂

outsider

do i feel like
an outsider
because of a
childhood
on the outside
or
did i spend
a life on the
outside
because i believe
at my core
i am
an outsider?

i wonder this. i am comfortable on the fringe…but did society put me here or did i put myself here–convinced of my own pariah-hood?
i am going through another episode where i let myself get too involved with other people & then had a severe reaction to said involvement.
i am in now the process of isolating myself–which most people would say is bad–then why does it feel so good?
i am relieved to be separated from the herd once more.
i am relieved to be my own best company again with only my own projects to think about. i am happy to not be contributing to anything but my own present situation….
is this wrong? i know it is not thought to be healthy…but is that a western notion pushed on us to make us a more productive society? root out the weirdos & misfits & pound those square pegs into the round holes? did i feel i had to be involved in order to be whole? in order to fit in? even though trying to fit in just made me feel so much worse?

my introverted son seems to have no drive to join a tribe just for the sake of joining. he seems content to wait for the right moment to spread his wings. i have never pressured him to be social (only to be kind). he & i don’t desire to be alone alone alone–we just desire to only spend our time with authentic people….

my green man dance

i am the eagle
i am the empress
i am the green man
only the warrior
is missing from my spread
i soar above
i embody motherhood
i am the essence of the earth
a feral thing
with bared teeth
i am
who i am
i am
a celebration
of me.

those are the last three cards i drew from my three different divination decks (two tarot & one medicine card deck.) i really should do a fresh spread, but i have been drawing strength from these cards as reflections of me. i am hoping i can believe this of myself. i totally see the green man in me…but i worry i need more of the empress; more of the eagle.
maybe that is the message. to embrace these things that i fear i am lacking.

hmmm.

my way

i’ve got a chip
on my shoulder
i’ve got
an axe to grind
&
fuck you
i’m gonna do it
my way.

more of this. anger…angst…figuring out who i am. the hero or the anti-hero…i think i am more of the second one. when i try to be the hero things just get messy.
so maybe the trick is accepting that i am not the hero.
& wondering if i ever really even wanted to be the hero.
i mean, i showcase my flaws–i don’t hide them under spandex. i definitely lean to the dark side while still holding something of a moral compass.
i guess things just aren’t as black & white as hero & villain. & who would want them to be? things are much more colorful this way.

a horse called fury

i am not a martyr
for my cause
i am not
going to suffer
so you can
live
without sin
i will ride in
on a horse called fury
i will swing
my sword
indiscriminately
&
i will
burn
this motherfucker
down.

you will all be relieved to hear i was able to download more criminal minds after i figured out that the site i use had changed addresses & i was following a dead link…. yup.
in last night’s watched episode, my favorite character (dr. reid) said, “everything falls apart…the trick is letting go.”
which i’m sure he was saying right to me–yes?
it feels to me like i am often watching everything fall apart.
add in trying to figure out who i really am…am i a good person? or am i a serial killer who just has not yet been triggered? i honestly lean more to the latter these days.
i am exhausted by thoughtless people.

speaking of! i am playing with two new ideas for comics.

the invisibles

and the misanthropic philantropist

single mom ISO

single mom iso an intelligent conversation
single mom looking for someone to laugh with
single mom seeking a shoulder to cry on
punk rock mom looking for a friend
anarchist mom iso someone who gets me
artist mom hoping for a little romance
genius mom with a backlog of “that’s what she said” jokes
waiting for the right
somebody

i am pretty much always writing my “do you like pina coladas” tagline in my head. all the time. it is kind of soothing. however, i have learned not to actually go on dating sites. i am not the type of person they were designed for.
so i write my little dating site ditties in my head and stare longingly at my handsome handyman
& never lift a finger to actually make a move to find my so-called soulmate
knowing the universe is sick of my shit
and i am bound to die alone.

the embers of your life

you can’t put a bandaid
on a decapatation
you can’t
try to change that flat tire
as your car
careens off the cliff
bursting
into flames…
just sit back
&
light your cigarette
on the embers of your
life
& wait for the drama
to wane.

the drama is never going to wane. i should just accept that.
but this epiphany did make sense at the time as i was trying to pull it together on my birthday. realizing that trying to get your shit together when you are at your lowest point is probably a non-starter.
except now my birthday is over and i’m still having trouble pulling it together.
fuck me.

hide & seek

i used to hide
hoping someone
would come find me
no one
ever
did
(except once)
now i hide
knowing no one
is looking
for me
i am
alone
with my
siren song.

written on my birthday in case you were wondering how i fared on that day.
if you are curious about the one time someone came looking for me when i was hiding, check out my book confusion perfume and other neurotic comics where that phenomenon is documented. available through amazon!

i was hoping to feel better, but i am either sabotaging myself yet again or something else is going one…maybe the universe kicking me in the ass? like–why won’t my downloadable tv site work?? just let me escape into crime tv! please!

but no. my new (used) sink is leaking. i have failed the free store. my kids are out of control. the yard needs to be mowed. and i cannot download any television because the site i use is down….

sigh.

& i’m alone & lonely….

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