INKtober tenth

sometimes
i feel like
no matter how hard
i try to be
a good person
try to do things
right
no matter what
i am doomed
to failure
&
i’m really trying
that’s the thing
being a good
person
is important
to me
so these
suspicions
that i am
fucking
it
all
up
anyway
are especially
devastating.

it was suggested by a beloved follower that my self-portraits could maybe smile. i couldn’t think up a smart ass response…so i drew one.

i used to smile constantly. i have extreme social anxiety & smiling was my way of satisfying the hordes that could not understand how terrified i was of small talk & social interactions. plus, being a girl in this culture, i was told to “smile” every time i did not smile. so i was one big explosion of smiles.
i remember one snarky girl at a party i was at when i was in my early 20s–i happened to be dating the guy she desired…but did not know that at the time–saying loudly, “does she do anything other than smile?”

death, single motherhood, betrayal, & heartache seriously dampened my smile. i sometimes find it extremely difficult to smile, in fact. sometimes smiling makes me cry.

but sometimes an authentic smile burbles up.
sometimes.

meanwhile. this is me. this is the smile i can muster without crying, too much.

constructive criticisms from a soon-to-be five year old who was watching over my shoulder as i drew this…
“you look nothing like her.”
“you’re not even trying.”

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INKtober sixth

is it something in the wind?
is it a changing of the seasons?
you try to remember the last time
you felt
like this
the last time
you realized
you
still
love
him
the last time you convinced yourself
to believe
things could be different between you & him
was it just a few months ago?
longer?
you remember screaming
at him
& throwing him
out of your house
your second son’s birthday…
the last time you invited him in
into your house
& opening
your heart
a little
just a little
the door peeked open
& he pushed his way in
& you pushed him back out again
& again
& again
until you wonder
why is there a revolving door on your heart?
& why
why
after all this time
all these years
why is he still
doing this dance
with you?

selfie with my dodo, y’all.

so i talked to my tarot cards tonight…about my crazy-ass feelings for my ex-husband, aka dusty…
i was told to control my impulses…to not jump into anything…to not abandon the path i have worked so hard on taking….
sigh.
my tarot cards never let me have any fun.
but, of course, they are right.
even if i were to work things out with my very handsome though emotionally stunted & narcissistic ex-husband, i should not–should definitely not–rush into it.
of course, i don’t know how to not rush into things…so i guess now is the time to learn.

in other news,
i lost my favorite pen. it has completely vanished. poof. gone. a replacement tip in the same size is $17.00 (i have several pens with clogged tips & could just switch out a new tip in the size of my favorite pen.) i have ordered one because the art must go on…but, i am on the verge of being very very broke & you know, donations are always welcome…as are purchases of my art.
should i set up a patreon page or something?
ack!
i need an agent/broker.

INKtober fifth

what do you do
if you realize
you are still in love
with the person
you hate?
hey–
remember when you
were friends?
remember
when he was your best
friend?
wait–
why are you doing this?
why are you torturing
yourself?
is this just another
“i’m lonely & looking
to fill in the blanks?”
is this just your way
of never
healing?
what is it with you
anyway?
shouldn’t you have
gotten
over
him
already?
or…things like this
the lost forever
is it even
possible
to heal
that
wound?

so, okay, i’m already hell-bound, but i so love catholic art. and, you know, i noticed yesterday that the inktober prompt was “spell” and i did a picture based on swan lake–a fairy tale where people are under a spell.
and today, the prompt is “chicken” and i did a picture based on saint peter–that jesus-denying motherfucker.

blasphemy.
such a fun word.

anyhoo! my art journal inktober fest continues as i delve into that conundrum of feelings i have for my ex-husband. i love him…i hate him…i love him…i hate him. my roller coaster relationship.

do i want to try again? or am i just horny?
more at ten….

(is it me or do my boobs & mommy tummy look better when i’m hung upside down until dead?)

INKtober fourth

once upon a time
i got happy
every
time
you walked through
the door
once upon a time
my heart
beat
faster
beat
lighter
just for you
…what happened?
where does that go
when it goes
away?

i had no problem drawing him…but i kept fucking me up. this was my second attempt. hmmm. i kept fucking me up.
what does that mean, i wonder.

also
i totally went right off the page.

always for now

always & forever
did not last
as long
as i thought it would
always
became sometimes
& then
seldom
before falling off the world & into
never….
forever started to
sputter out
after
what?
just a couple of years?
a brief
forever
waxing & waning
away to
nothing.
never mind.

anti-versaries

ah crap. it’s september…such a wonderful month for fall smells & sights…and the anti-versary of
meeting my first big love/heartbreak/betrayal
marrying my first husband
& meeting my last big love/heartbreak/betrayal

no wonder i feel like a big bag of hopelessly crappy crap.

fuck you, september
(please stop being hot now & at least give me some 70 degree weather)

image from an art class…moses jones as an archangel, slaughtering dusy–or, you know, the devil.

stay

he saw my damage
he loved my damage
he wanted me to
stay
damaged…
i
i wanted
i wanted to heal
i wanted to fly
i wanted
to
be
free
he clipped
my wings
he built
my cage
he told me i should
stay
damaged
he did all he could
so i would stay
damaged
because
if i was damaged
i would
stay
his.

this was inspired by reading mike’s manic word depot’s post “don’t want to be fixed.”

another take, i guess, on people in relationships trying to create the reality that works best for them–regardless of what is best for their partner.

i have been having a bunch of realizations (epiphanies if you will) about my relationship with the father of my children. lots of lots of stuff to dig through there.

(hey…if you are typing too fast & fuck up, “lots” turns into “lost”…which also makes me spin with epiphanies…just that word…lost….)