wrong way

as i was loading up the inkstain for this inking, i saw several different figures i did not see when i did this drawing. i kind of want to go back & do it with what i see in the ink now. that’s what i get for working while watching doctor who while minions crawl all over me.

wrongway1

i dunno. i’m not sure i like this one. i’m not sure what it is about. if it is about anything. are my pictures really ever about anything? or are they about everything? i draw what i see & what i feel.

but overall, i really do like my work. i really do. i was looking to see what it would look like on t-shirts & mugs…on leggings. i think my ink would be cool on leggings.

and, of course, it would look nice hanging on walls. i have mine hanging all around me. my favorites…or ones with elements that i want to use more. inspirations.

also! my nephews read my moses jones zines & now want to be part of the story. i was like, “what the hell…i can do that.” maybe that’s how i can make money. write personal graphic novels for people. ha! let people star in their own comic.

it didn’t work out so well for my exhusband #2. he wanted to be in moses jones, and that is how dusty was born. i didn’t plan to make him into a “bad guy” or “dead-beat dad” (as one comic review labeled him.) i wrote & drew what i felt, and it turned my ex into dusty knickers.

he will never forgive me for it, either.
oh well.

how is that going, you ask?
great!
though i am still struggling with doing it all on my own, i have not once regretted asking him to leave. i do not want him back. he wheedles and manipulates and tries to wiggle back in, but i am so tough i won’t even go to eat culver’s with him. yes. you heard me. i turn down free culver’s so that i do not have to interact with my ex. that, my friends, is a strength i have not felt in years.
so
yay for me.

mister chicken

so as it turns out,
i’m not crazy–i’m an empath.
okay,
sometimes i’m still crazy.
but when i get super sad and then feel elated the next minute–
the thing is–
i often don’t feel my own emotions,
i feel other people’s emotions.
so weird.
i always knew i was really really empathetic
but only in the past couple of years have i learned about being an empath.

so i’m an empath.
i feel things
and know things
that other people cannot sense.
i know when someone is lying.
i can see an aura better than i can notice the color of your eyes.
and it has come to my attention that being an empath–& not knowing how to protect yourself–is a dangerous & even a bad thing.
i don’t know how to protect me.
i lay open for everyone to just dump their emotions in.
and then i turn into a raging pond of dumped emotions.

so today i was reading a book about service dogs for families that have special needs children and i felt profoundly sad.  and instead of just feeling sad, i examined why i felt sad…only to realize that the sadness was not my own, but the sadness of these families.
it finally clicked.
i was not feeling my own emotions.
i was feeling someone else’s!!
and just like that, the sadness evaporated.
how often am i doing that?
being angry with someone else’s anger?
being happy with someone else’s happiness?
being frustrated with someone else’s frustration?

i wonder.
when i was a child, i loved animals. all animals. i loved them. i collected them. i had over fifty pets as a kid–and even more imaginary ones.
but my dad was so angry.
and he put that anger on us kids
and on the animals.
and i felt myself absorb that anger.
i felt it grow inside me.
i recognized it when it came out–it was his anger, not mine.
but over the years i adopted it as my own.
i was the one being angry at the animals.
it stopped being his and became mine.
and i felt so horrible about it
about myself.
i cringe to think that that is who i am.
but what if it isn’t?
i wonder…
if i now realize it is not my anger after all…can i send it on its way?

 

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