& for my next trick…

surviving myself
may be
the best trick
i have ever done
now you see me
now
you still
see me
i’m still here
manacles
straight jacket
cement shoes
submerged in a tank full of every tear
i have
ever
cried
&
i climbed back out
i
survived.

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fiercely believing

how do i exist
if no one believes
in me?
my parents
believed in me as a pretty baby
a quiet baby
not so much
when i bloomed
into a strange flower
different 
from them
short of cannibalizing me
like disillusioned 
hamsters
their belief 
faded
sisters
believed in me
in theory
when convenient
one brother 
believed in me
i can say that
because he is dead
& no one can tell me
different
teachers & therapists
well sure
but they were paid to
boyfriends
husbands
i was a game
to win
an uprising 
to squash
a puzzle
to berate
no belief required
friends…?
seemingly quick 
to betray
to disappear
to spout belief
while demonstrating
the opposite
so
much like the tooth fairy
whom i kept alive
way past the age most 
let her dissolve
i keep myself alive
fiercely believing
despite evidence
urging me
to fade away.

while crying in the shower yesterday, i wrote this poem. with the challenge of getting out of the shower & past four screaming minions to the journal on my desk to compose it before it washed away down the drain.
picture that.
i did get dressed first, so be sure to add clothes.

karl shapiro, i think, once wrote a poem about crying in the shower. i think i used to recite it in speech contests. little did i know how useful that poem would prove.

this thought is a bit melodramatic, i suppose. a bit emo. angsty. 
but, seriously, it is something i struggle with. i find it very difficult to believe that anyone believes in me. 
and if they do, i dismiss it as their not knowing me well enough to know any better…or knowing that one day they will stop believing & walk away.
i think it is our nature
at this point in our history
to not believe in each other
to not have invested feelings for one another
in a culture of convenience & right now
belief is too risky.

i made peanut butter cookies (which are kick ass) and i am going to make lo mein & eggrolls for dinner.
thanksgiving just has a bad feeling for me. a holiday of bad energy. as a pagan witch, i have like three harvest holidays & believe in giving thanks every day…so thanksgiving really is redundant for me.

but i do hope y’all are having a good day.
i believe in you!

ps. while pooping this morning (i do my best thinking in a locked door bathroom) i decided i really do need to put my melodramatic art journal musings into a collection with self-portraits. you know, one of those self-publish books.
how do i do that? are their sources that any of y’all recommend? thoughts? 

phoenix rising

i realized something today
i am pretty fucking awesome
whether i’ve had
a beer…or two
or
am stone cold sober
whether my bathroom is clean
or the scene
of a toxic event
i am pretty fucking awesome
warts & all
literal & figurative
losing my mind
or all fucking zen
i am incredible
fantastic
amazing
think what you will
of me
but i am the only
one
who
knows for sure
i am
totally
fucking awesome.

after 250 self-portrait art journal pages (this is #251) in the past eleven months…it was bound to happen.
i felt good writing this…it was a bit harder to post as i am all, “what if i’m wrong? what if i suck?” but i totally felt it as i was writing it.
confidence.
belief in myself.
and it felt good.

i believe in me

imposter syndrome triggered….

i just applied to be on a website that features women illustrators. it is for professional illustrators.
am i professional?
am i?
well…what am i if i am not professional? who am i then?

so many questions.

all i can do is write “i believe in me” over & over until i am convinced i am spelling it wrong.

(i believe in me)

sophie’s choice

so i am applying for this award that goes to mothers who write &/or draw.  there are a bunch of categories, but they encourage you to only enter in one. i have been agonizing over whether i should go with the graphic novel category and enter moses jones or if i should enter in the drawing category and just showcase my ink stain whimsy series (among other drawings i feel strongly about.)

seriously, it has been agonizing.

last night i was sure that i could write a graphic novel to go with my ink stain whimsy series and enter it & mojo in the graphic novel category…. and maybe i could. and maybe i will! but not right now. i started to. split into a few different directions. saw images in my head i knew i could not at this time create.

finally, i started to physically go through all of my pages of moses jones and all of my ink stains.
reading moses jones had a much stronger pull for me than my inkstains.
i love my ink stains. they are totally a relaxing and fun art to do.
but graphic novels…
moses jones…
how i love my graphic novels.

i even dug through some of my other comics. weener coop and just me & my lizard brain:

man, i love comics & graphic novels.

so i am going to convince myself that the judges will see the beauty i see in moses jones and award me a greatly needed cash prize.

 

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