goodbye

it was as if the island did not want me to be there.
every sign an exit sign.
rain filling the tent
a sky clouding over as soon as we got to the beach
for a swim
crows crying out a warning every morning
relentless flies & pissy park rangers…
i wondered if it was an omen of bad things to come…
only to realize it was a letting go
like the end of the movie
when you have to set free the thing you love
have to chase off the thing you love.
the island was telling me to leave
to run free
& to not look back.

this has everything to do with dusty. i planned this vacation to madeline island with him. kind of a co-parent thing. i thought it would work out okay because things had been going more friendly between us.
but i really do not like being around him.
especially not for an entire camping trip.
we are so different in the ways we live our lives. the ways we see the world. the ways we parent….
it hurts me to be around him. i wish it did not…but it does. i am damaged a little every time i tolerate his bullshit. and i feel like i have to tolerate his bullshit in order to keep the peace.
…and i really really do not like tolerating bullshit.

it was totally his fault the tent flooded. i kept trying to nicely tell him the flaw in his thinking. the flaw that was causing the tent to turn into a leaky water bed…but he kept telling me how it was going to work. i had to wait it out, bailing out the tent more than once, before he would “let” me fix the problem (without any help from him.)

i once surmised of our relationship that if we were ever in a situation where we had to work together to survive–we just wouldn’t. we would be dead.

but i survived.
& the island made it clear to me that i need to let go & stop the nonsense.

day 107

day 107 at madness manor…
i left my house
for four nights
to go camping
a reluctant vacation
as madness manor
sang to me
“please don’t go
i love you so!”
& i missed my house
like i would miss
a friend
what is the fun
of roughing it
in the woods
when i could be
roughing it
at home?

i always find myself wondering why people choose to go camping. vacation in such a way that you sleep on the hard ground, have to walk to get water, poop in a pit toilet, cook over a fire, combat bugs & possibly larger pests….
is it a thing like once you have done it, you feel more alive? feel like you have survived?
my every day is a struggle with survival.
my house is like camping.
so why did i bother to drive for a day to do everything i could do at home?
hmmmm.
which leads to the question–why do i choose to live my every day in a way that most would call roughing it?

when i was packing up to go on this trip that i really did not want to go on, my music mix started playing alt-j’s “breezeblocks”
i really did take it as a sign that my house was going to miss me as much as i was going to miss her.

but i’m home now. putting in heat & insulation & preparing for a winter in madness manor. yay!

our regularly scheduled program will continue…

i snuck away from madness manor to go to madeline island on lake superior this past week. i thought i forgot to pack my pens…but i did have them. not that camping & hiking & swimming & surviving the rain in a tent lends much time to writing & drawing….
i did learn that i do not ever want to go camping with my ex-husband ever ever ever again no matter how badly i feel for excluding him. no more.
it was a beautiful trip even though i was terribly homesick the entire time.

hopefully i will have new journal pages up soon!

haiku doin’?

the rain did stop. the
sun did come out. mosquitoes
remained the constant.

more delightful art journal pages written while camping in wisconsin instead of funeraling in texas.

escape from texas

i did not go to my mother’s funeral…i went camping instead.
i just could not gamble
on going from a “green” state
to a “red” one
willingly
exposing my family
to the stigma
of traveling in the time of covid
i have a lot of mixed feelings about this.
and a couple of journal pages….

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