so i can’t just go from point A: inspiration to point B: execution of idea.
for me it’s more like “oh! i have an idea!”
but first i have to water & feed the livestock
wait, i have time for a shower
now i have to clean up after breakfast
now! now i can sit down & draw out my idea….
(which of course is when someone needs help with something)
sometimes this destroys my creative flow…other times it creates an atmosphere of percolation where i mull over the idea in my head as i
take a shower
until the point where i know exactly how i want to execute my idea.
so i have been bothered by this for some time. people who tell me it is inconsistent for me to believe in climate change while questioning vaccines and genetically modified foods. it occurred to me this morning that there is more than one kind of science. this is just an observance…not a well-researched thesis. however, as i see it, there is natural science (how a rainbow happens, what causes a hurricane, why climate change is real)…and then there is what i want to call “man-made” science (plastic, cloning, strip mining & pipelines). i mean the human pursuit of science often falls on the wrong side of “just because you can do it does not mean you should do it.” and i think this is probably caused by man thinking his science is superior to that of nature. he takes something natural & perverts it to meet his needs.
it’s a thought in progress. bear with me.
so i have had four pregnancies. the first two ended with doctors convincing me i was unable to give birth & cutting the baby out of me.
with my third pregnancy, knowing my body wants to go to at least 42 weeks and hearing doctors say they would not allow me to go past 41 without interventions…i quit doctors. i had two home births. and the babies came out when they were ready. after 42 weeks. healthy, normal, and with the bodies of babies born at the right time.
so this started my journey from what convention & mainstream would call “rational” to what i am today–someone who prefers to trust my instincts and question man-made science.
i believe in science. nature is science. fucking around with science is humans trying to beat nature. but we have created this culture where you are not allowed to question anything remotely “science” or you are ridiculed as a crackpot.
look where not questioning what we are told by “scientists” has gotten us.
look at the general health & state of mind of the united states.
look at the state of our climate & our environment.
ps. i am not going to argue this with anyone. i believe in my instincts & my intuition, and i am not ignorant (though admittedly not an expert) on these topics. if you don’t agree with me, that’s all you.
holy moly i am so out of sorts.
it’s a january thunderstorm. i quit drinking & facebook all in the same week. i’m already feeling all rejected by the men of “okcupid”–though the men there do seem way cooler than the men of “plenty of fish.” my kids are on overdrive and i keep thinking, “if i can barely deal with my life, how can i ever expect to find someone to jump in & be all–yes! this is what i want.”
other than dusty, who would jump back in in a heartbeat. which is a tempting thought sometimes when i am lonely & frazzled and then i have to remind myself of all the crap he has done to me. all the crap he says to me. and the crap i feel like when he is around.
and my berkey water filter has quit working.
all while i’m reading future home of the living god. reading books, as an empath, is risky. i get waaaaaay way too into the plot & characters and actually lose myself.
so i am currently lost in a dystopian nightmare.
and my end-of-the-world water filter has gone kaput.
i am so out of sorts.
i’m trying to draw this comic, but my kids are so super needy. plus there is laundry & dishes & food to make.
and i am crawling out of skin.
did i mention the winter thunderstorms of doom?
okay. here is an okcupid story to cheer us all up.
someone from the small town i live in messaged me via okcupid to tell me i should check out his profile and told me how he had read mine twice before he messaged me.
so, hey, he’s not physically my type, but i go check out his profile. first off, i see he is looking for a woman who owns a pair of heels and actually wears them–who dresses up every now & then.
the highest heels i own are on my motorcycle boots.
then he goes on to say in the “message me if…” that a woman should message him if she agrees that she should wear stockings & heels in the bedroom.
he says he read my profile twice?
i go on & on about sustainability in my profile & refer to myself as punk rock.
i don’t have on any make-up in my photos…i don’t even know how to put on make-up. my hair is short & messy–like it always is. (i’m assuming here that if he wants a woman to dress up every now & then he probably expects make-up and hair done.)
and in the “6 things i can’t live without” section, i have listed as my number one thing: barefeet….
what woman who values barefeet would put on heels ever–especially in the bedroom??
why would dude think i was his type at all?
why not just have “message me if you are a warm body”?
internet dating is so weird.
re-cap: end of the world, y’all, and my water filter is not working & i am still alone & lonely.
plus i have no beer.
when it blows like this
a woman scorned
sets my teeth on edge
pulls a sadness
from deep inside me
dancing with my anxiety
it feels like a warning
like a lesson
i don’t want to learn
i live in the prairie lands of the midwest. winds start blowing here, and they just don’t stop. i usually love the wind. but sometimes it blows in a maniacal and high-pitched fervor. it blows in a way that i don’t remember the wind blowing when i was a kid. it feels wrong somehow. so when it blows like this, i just want to hide.
which is what i spent most of yesterday doing.
hiding from the wind.
longest title yet for one of my inks.
this drawing made me think of my anxiety…it made me think of all the stuff going on in my head all of the time…especially at night, laying in bed.
i don’t mind the little voices too much. not the constructive ones anyway. the destructive ones can fuck the fuck off. you know, the ones who blather on and on about how you should have said this instead of this and now everyone thinks you are a great big idiot? i am learning to tune them out…except of course when i most need to tune them out….
the constructive little voices…the ones obsessively trying to figure out how to save the world…how to be the best mom ever…how to finish a piece of art…how to start a short story…what project to tackle next…how to deal with this problem, or that one. those voices rock. it’s like i’m doing the prep work while i’m laying in bed. i work it all out and then i’m ready to go.
those little voices convinced me, after reading a carrie fisher memoir followed by a carrie fisher novel (the two overlapping quite a bit) i realized, i should be writing my memoir…as fiction…or creative non-fiction…or in long hand! with illustrations! and i can publish it as zines!
alas, the destructive little voices were stressing about yesterday’s post and telling me it was pretty fucking dumb & unhelpful…then the constructive little voices started suggesting follow-up blog posts on sustainable living–talking about all the things i do every day. i mean, if i want to be a trend-setter, i do have to start sharing more my awesome trends in sustainable living…(okay, awesome to me, the destructive little voices are going to have a hay day with that.)
or i can turn it into a zine too–with illustrations!!
okay. i just had a cup of coffee. i haven’t had one in days because one of two appliances i own–my coffee grinder–broke.
but today i realized that my other appliance–the blender–is actually just a giant coffee grinder!! another step in sustainability–no specialized appliances!
but i do need to get a mortar & pestle for grinding spices…or make one.
as faux spring passes back into winter
i enjoy the brisk wind
as it pushes against me
and the fire of my brain calms
as my minions go off
to stay with their dad
i embrace my simple solitude
venturing out of the house
only to prove i can.
the anger has softened
the moon is new
like i can handle life.
i think it was really tearing me apart that i wanted to celebrate spring, but the spring i wanted to celebrate was actually a dangerous thing that could really fuck up the growing season (not to mention the world)…those beautiful warm days were a bitter reminder that we have an administration in power that wants to go backwards at a time where even going forward isn’t going to stop the damage that has been done. but it’s forward…not backward.
i mean, it’s hard to imagine people of this country, people of the world, embracing a carbon-free lifestyle…i mean, that was difficult enough…now knowing that there are people in power who want to fuck it all the fuck up….
it’s too much for me.
warm days in winter spell death to me…not temporary spring…but death.
so as much as i wanted to enjoy those days of 60 & 70 degree weather. it was killing me.
so now that it is cold again, i feel like i can breathe again.
coincidentally, my minions went away to see their dad for a week just as the weather turned cold again.
and i feel like i can breathe again.
i love my minions…but often question whether i can be a mom or not. do i have it in me? was it a mistake? and why even wonder about this when i have four kids and it’s not like i can just say, “hey! do-over!”
but then they go away and i wonder how i would exist without them.
as i let my dogs out into this unseasonable & warm january day, i started sobbing. beautiful weather sponsored by big oil. beautiful weather thanks to climate change. this same beautiful weather in the middle of illinois in the middle of winter, means droughts in other parts of the world. hurricanes & tsunamis in other parts of the world. famine & wild fires in other parts of the world. and if this beautiful weather continues here, the plants will be fooled into thinking it is spring and then a cold snap will kill them as they try to bloom. this warm january day means scorching heat in the summer…or even in the spring.
that’s what we are. we are enjoying the beautiful weather…despite the consequences. refusing to change and ignoring the consequences. the environment is just one level of the game we are playing…and losing.
i have been depressed for three days now. with reason. the world is a mess. my country is a mess. but turn on the tv & everything is okay. turn on the news and it is someone else who is suffering. not you. so, carry on.
sometimes being an empath really really really fucking sucks.
i can feel the pain in the air. the pain of this world.
i can feel it.
and it hurts.
if it hurts me, imagine how it feels to whomever, whatever is actually experiencing the pain.
and while i am getting enough sleep, i am tired to my bones.
why am i so pissed off again?
okay, so i’m not going to be magically
so i’m not going to be magically
i’m going to be bitter & angry
wishing things had been different
careful i am not wishing my children away
as i wish i had never met their father.
it’s fucking thanksgiving
i don’t know about you
but this was the most dysfunctional
of fucked up dysfunctional holidays
i spent years avoiding
for years, i couldn’t even eat turkey
without feeling angry
the holiday of family fights
based on a false
as white invaders who
murdered & stole from indigenous peoples
after being welcomed into their land
it’s a fucking
fuck my ex-husband.
fuck my parents.
fuck black friday
and the mentality of buying buying buying
made by abused workers
in other countries
as a cloud of pollution forms
over their heads
fuck this fucking country and its killing ways
its stealing ways
this whole land