the far beyond

days & days
of staring at an inkstain
drawing a line here
& there
squinting to see the shapes
in shadows & smudges & splatters
meanwhile,
putting up beehives
raising chicks
building pasture
planting seeds
& trees
& flowers…
eleven days into april
just one inking,
but so much work

i’m exhausted. but i finally finally finished this. there were several times when i thought i was done…but then the light would hit it just right & i would see another face…another creature…more magic.

i am having trouble focusing on my artwork. it shouldn’t take me eleven days to do an inking. or should it? i am distracted. with spring and all the work of a budding homestead.

but, also, with dusty around, the little voices whisper to me that he thinks i am wasting my time.that he thinks i am neglecting the minions. that he thinks i am being silly–thinking my art is a worthwhile endeavor. that i should be doing something else–something worthwhile.
when dusty is nearby, it echoes of my childhood & when my dad would enter a room, i feel like i have to look busy…i feel like my artwork is not real work.

i could very well be projecting this.
or i could very well be sensing it from him.
he has made snide comments in the past.

some days i think i can keep dusty in my life.
i am trying really hard to be nice to him
to see if that changes how he treats me…

…but most the time, he is still a turd.

sigh.

dream weaver

i have a wicked head cold.
which might be responsible for this inking & its title.
which may have been a psychosomatic response to my letting dusty move back in.
i can barely breathe.
i can barely think.
my functionality is pretty limited.

sigh.

dreamweaver3

it might be a defense mechanism of mine.
i was once sick for a month straight in one doomed relationship.
i can’t remember which one.
it’s like my body says, “this is bullshit.”
and shuts down.
my immune system gives up on me.
or thinks, “maybe this will get her attention.”

fuck.

dreamweaver2

how many times can i fuck up in the exact same way?
maybe that should be the title of my memoirs….

dreamweaver1

bat accordian rough draft

so i guess today is the first day of the rest of my life
i know things won’t magically get better
just because i ousted the man
who helped me make myself
miserable
but i felt a ray of light
and thought,
“i’m just going to relax.”
when i faced this first day
officially on my own.
then i felt the need to defend my decision
to relax
as if i was doing something wrong.
but, fuck it.
i’m going to sing & dance & play
and be ridiculous if i want to be
the person
who made me feel as if
i had to be the grown-up
while he did whatever he wanted to do
is gone.

i spent the past two days taking dusty his stuff and severing those ties. we now live in separate states. separate physical states. i think we always lived in separate mental states.

so maybe the spells & stones worked after all? maybe i had to go to that dark dark dark fucking place inside me to find the strength to separate myself from him and all he has taught me i am in the years we have been together.

to let go, i had to die a little.

but it worked. i am free. maybe for the first time in a decade or more. maybe for the first time in forever.

i am free and i am going to work all this anger out of my bones. all the anger i have absorbed over the years. i am going to work it out and learn to believe that i am worthy of love.

that will be weird.

if i believe i am worthy of good things?
that would be amazing.

so while on the road, i only got this doodle done. so i missed two days of posting. but i’m back now and will finish this doodle. here is what it looks like with just the first ink on the ink stain. more ink to come!