feral

i have been enjoying doing ink on canvas. it is a different process. i have to think more about what i am doing. i guess i’m exercising a new part of my art brain.
this one was inspired by a journal page. i’m not exactly sure what is going on. i keep staring at it & trying to figure the story out.
my art is always always always about the story.
speaking of which. i have been doing some brainstorm doodling. i am on the verge of a new comic (that might be a mishmash of many other ideas from other stories playing in my head these past seven years.) right now it is percolating…& doodling….

up top: “veronica”
16×20 inking on canvas
$200 plus shipping

girls girls girls

mostly i’m just staring at blank pages
blank canvases
a busy mind
spilling ink
& seeing what happens….

so this past week i have spent $300 that i don’t have to pay two different plumbers for a total of 15 minutes of work. i am broke as a joke & living on credit and praying to the universe that art sells…that books sell…that this job comes through…that my ex gets a job & starts paying me child support again…that i somehow win the award issued by the sustainable arts foundation despite four or so failed attempts to win it in years past….

i need to learn plumbing…in addition to carpentry & tiling.
or sell art so i can afford to pay for help.

up top: “gretchen”
20X16 inking on canvas
$200 plus shipping

left: “clarice”
8X10 inking on watercolor paper
$40 plus shipping

right: “lambkins”
8X10 inking on watercolor paper
$40 plus shipping

deconstructing

i feel like anger
has been woven into me
& now
i need to undo all these fibers
work backward
get the knot out
the fucked up stitch
& re-weave myself
into the person
i need to be
the person
i want to be
but
fuck me
it feels like so much work.

of course, if i don’t do the work, that will drive me crazy. looking at the mess of me will bug me until i finally do do the work.
and i will do it.
i will. just, right now, i could really use a nap.

“lydia”
8X10 ink on watercolor paper
$45 ish

flowing

letting go
of my anger with the men
all the men…
they can no longer hurt me
letting go
of my anger with motherhood
we get it
it’s a thankless fucking job
but you’re going to do it
so just do it
letting go
of my need to make sense
of things
that just don’t
letting go
my need to control
that which needs to be free
is like my insisting on
trying to sculpt water
i need to
accept
just
accept
& move forward in the flow.

some of my posts are inspired by texts to people. this one was inspired by a comment made by robert wertzler who has been sharing my blog over on his blog. thank you, robert!

i feel like i have been stuck for awhile. i was moving, and now i am caught up in one of those inadvertent dams that happen when there is too much debris in too narrow a flow.
that’s exactly where i’m at.
stuck.
maybe i need to sort through the debris? or maybe i just need to blow out my dam & get moving again.

“blooms”
8X10 inking on watercolor paper
$45 ish

moving forward

so i finished an ink on canvas piece. it took a bit. i think i like it?

i also have been playing with tea staining my paper.

and thinking about future pieces. like the story about “bluejean & the moonfish” which these inkings are kind of exploring for character development of bluejean. i have been playing with this character since a watercolor course at uw madison in 2014. one of these days i will get her off the ground.

& i continue to mess around with “notta not-a-boy” while mulling over the final page (for now) of moses jones.

and don’t forget my novel in progress…i’m at 41,331 words.

up top: sea garden
ink on canvas
$200 (ish?)

tea-stains: guardian dear & character study
ink on water color paper 8X10
$45

don’t put that in your mouth (a cautionary tale)

you ever been with a guy…not really a boyfriend…just some guy & you’re messing around with him & maybe he’s just given you some pretty lackluster oral & now he expects you to return the favor but instead of asking he just starts pushing your head towards his crotch?
and you wish you could say, “hey! motherfucker, use your words. i’m a person, not a sex toy,” but instead you just play dumb until he gets all frustrated & pitches a fit like a demented toddler, muttering “it takes two to tango” reminding me of my psychotic school bus driver….
and is there anything scarier than naked adult male anger when all you want is to feel safe & valued? don’t you just want to go back in time to protect younger, dumber you? to kick those assholes in the balls & say, “who the fuck are you to treat me like this?”

this came pouring out of me at 2am this morning when i was trying to fall asleep. twenty-four years after it happened.
why did i contact him again? why did i still think of him as a “good guy” despite my most vivid memory of him being his yelling, “it takes two to tango!” when i didn’t want to suck his cock?
why do i convince myself–why do i second guess myself–why do i tell myself it’s no big deal when it is?
like when my boyfriend punched the wall so hard he broke his hand because i wasn’t having as much sex with him as he wanted?
at least he wasn’t punching me–right?
at least he wasn’t raping me–right?
so i tolerate it? i spin it in my head. say, “he didn’t mean it. he was just ___” fill in the blank with whatever will convince you to stay when you really really should go.

i had a dream that i was in a deranged & dangerous building that has been a regular dream location. however, in this dream the other night, i knew it was the last time i would be there. hopefully the building represented toxic men.

“good night”
8X10 inking on watercolor paper
$45

fall or fly

this is about where i am at
do i fly
or do i fall?

“fall or fly”
9X12 inking on watercolor paper
$45 plus $5 shipping

hmmm…recently i was trying to sell a woodburning stove i did not need and it was listed forever without selling. so i raised the price.
& it sold.
maybe i should raise the price on my inkings?

contrarily, i was getting the links for my books on amazon–their prices have plummeted…so, you know, get ’em before they hit the trash can?

flying & falling all over the place…mostly falling at the moment.

art showing!

so i have art hanging at a local very hip cafe called magpie gelato.
it’s pretty exciting for me. it has been a long time since i have put my art in a frame.
and then, this spring-ish, my art will be in a book!

the invisible exhibitionist

so much is happening.
& best of all, i am excited about it instead of terrified!

my impossible escape

i made it my impossible dream
living with only it in mind
& when i found it
i embraced it. made it my everything
got completely
utterly
lost in it
with time however & happenstance
i began to wear it
as my own crown of thorns. my misery
my impossible escape
then i began to push it away
to deny it like peter at the gate
not me
not this
sleight of hand. look over there
nothing to see here…definitely not me
not like this….
but now i see
it is yet another balancing act
a recipe
i have to be
a little of this. a little of that.
& every bit of me.

this is based on an inking i did about motherhood a year ago.
i am happy to report that i am coping much better. on thursday, my minions came home after spending 10 days with dusty. the energy was crazy & knocked me on my ass (metaphorically.) however, i was able to get back on my feet and not lose my mind. not even at dusty who was really really trying to piss me off.
yay!

my crown of thorns; my impossible escape
9X12 inking on watercolor paper
$45 plus $5 shipping

burn the world down

i am feeling a bit angsty. pissy. out of whack in the zen.

february 23rd was the wedding anniversary of my dead parents. they were married on february 23, 1963. my brother was born november 30, 1963.
why would anyone plan a winter wedding in illinois…hmmmm.
so during my hike/meditation on the 23rd i started thinking about it. my dad’s family always treated my mom like a second class citizen. like “white trash.”
did they get married because she was pregnant? she always claimed she had her period on her wedding day…but i think that might have just been a cover?
so i started thinking more and more. places i have not let my brain go before. whether or not my mom “trapped” my dad into marriage, his family must have believed it, & i suspect that he also did.
i tried to think of an instance where my dad showed love to my mom. i mean, he was obviously attracted to her sexually…but thinking back i cannot think of a moment where he showed her love. devotion. usually he was ridiculing my mom. acting like he was better/smarter than she was. often times he was downright cruel.
she, however, was crazy about him (literally at times.) she loved him & was utterly devoted. even dying within a year of his dying.
then–after reading a romcom novel & really really enjoying it to my own dismay & then wondering why i felt so uncomfortable with romance–i started applying this model to my own life. and found a disturbing pattern. let’s use dusty as an example….
when dusty was devoted to me, i looked down on him…considered him beneath me.
when he abused me, i loved him and became almost manic in my devotion.
and i could apply it to other relationships.
many other relationships.
my model taught me to ridicule men who are devoted to me while adoring men who abuse me.
fuck.
fuck fuck fuck.

but now i am aware of this. now i can start healing it.

ps. on 2-22-22 tuesday, i thought it was a good day for a love spell…so i did that. i did a love spell for my perfect man.
of course, i will keep y’all updated on my magical pursuit of true love.

“burn the world down”
9X12 inking on watercolor paper
$45 plus $5 shipping

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