into the abyss of me

i cannot control
my moods
the ebb & flow
the phases
of the moon
i can’t stop
my moods
&
i shouldn’t…
i can control
how i react
to my moods
celebrate & nurture
my moods
pay attention to them
don’t
lock them in a closet
not even
the ugly ones
give all of them
the attention
they crave
the attention
they demand
value the dark side
as much as
the full bright shining one
& every mood
in between.

going from zen as fuck to snarky & irrational opened some doors into how i deal with my mood swings…how i deal with my emotions.
instead of letting them control me as i try to control them, what if i just say, “hey, there’s that rabid anger again; i wonder what i need to address before i let it go?”
or something like that.
emotions happen for a reason, right?
instead of burying them or denying them, use them as a flashlight to uncover what is really going on.
& then let them go.

sober thoughts

just for fun
i’m only drinking
when i really
really really
feel like it
(not just as a reflex
happy hour for one)
&
sometimes
not even then
opting to notice the *need*
& just
let it go…
so now
i notice
when my mind turns
to craving
the numbness
alcohol
brings
i am noticing
now
when
&
why
i wish to be
numb.

mostly it is times when being a mom feels overwhelming & impossible…or when my ex is picking picking picking at the energy field around me, whittling it away…

but today, my neighbor (mentioned yesterday) came to my house to complain about my twelve year old. yes. he is annoying. sneaky. manipulative. & plays really really rough sometimes (he has sensory processing disorder & doesn’t always respect boundaries) …but he is also a scapegoat for women/mothers like my neighbor. hyper judgey gossipy drama queens. i’ve noticed a pattern.
& it’s not like her kids are any better.
also, she is best buds with the kid who is my kid’s arch nemesis. another sneaky & manipulative boy about my son’s age.
so it’s kinda annoying that she thinks this kid is golden while mine is garbage?
& the other day i told this rotten neighbor kid to stop making drama & to play nicely with all the kids instead of causing problems.
he told angry neighbor lady (not his mom–i don’t even know who his mom is) that i yelled at him.
i did not yell at him.
so bitchy neighbor lady is telling me i cannot talk to kids? i have to talk to parents??? i told her bullshit–if a kid is causing problems with my kids–fuck yeah i’m going to say something.
otherwise
who the fuck is checking these kids’ behavior?
if my kid is being an ass, i expect someone to tell him (nicely & as an adult) that he is being an ass.
it takes a fucking village, right?

long story short–i really could have used a drink after throwing said neighbor lady out of my house–but i did not partake.
just noted the urge.
& let it go….

i’ve noticed that i have inked faces familiar to the one on my journal page above several times. maybe i should name her?

so not gmo

how many generations
of fucked
uped
ness
is there
in my bloodline?
if i were
livestock
i would have met
with the butcher’s block
to prevent further
tainting
the herd.
is it a crime
against
nature
that i continue this
–yes, handsome, but
what of it’s
psychotic & chaotic
nature–
line of creation?

so…troubles with momming of late. convinced i am the lead monster of a pack of monsters….
sigh.
have i mentioned how much being a single mom just sucks ass?

on another note, i really liked what i did here changing it up by using pink skin tones rather than white space.
it’s an experiment….

hideaway

i had a pretty rough day the other day…there is going to be a bunch of these. any day i am struggling, i just put it all down on paper. pages & pages of paper…

my puzzle to solve

you can walk a mile
in my shoes
i will take a turn in yours
but don’t
judge
my crazy
whatever gets you through
the night
whatever keeps you
in the fight
just don’t you dare
judge my
crazy
i put it on display
my porch light
so you know you are
welcome
know you are not
alone
my candle to find a way
through the dark
but my crazy
is my own puzzle to solve
you don’t know my pain
anymore
than i know yours
so
don’t mess with my crazy
sometimes
it is the only thing
that makes
sense.

hidey hole

if you’re
looking for me
i’ve gone
backwards
down my tunnel
closing the entrance
off
behind me
burying any evidence
that i am anywhere
near
by
if you’re
looking for me
you
won’t
find me.
(i’m hiding)

i’m in the isolating part of my cycle…but thing is…i’m not isolating as much as i used to…so, good, right?
but i still wrote this post.

circus freak

this is my every day.
seriously. in the wee hours, i’m all like, “today will be different!”
by lunchtime i am just another one of the dancing monkeys.

i do like how this one turned out. but i would also re-do it if i could. once that ink is on there–it doesn’t like to change it’s course. that’s why i work in ink rather than watercolors. i like the unforgiving nature of ink–forcing me to live with my mistakes.

update: i did find my missing comics. i found them while looking for a missing pen. i recently unclogged one of my old rapidograph pens after years of it not working.
and now i can’t find it.
it is somewhere nearby…drying out…again.
why do i choose difficult art supplies? maybe for the same reason i birthed difficult children.
i really don’t know…i just know i love them (my pens & my minions.)

status update: overwhelmed

the minions returned on tuesday–i drive & meet dusty half-way to wisconsin. usually we do the swap at a rest area, but dusty volunteered to meet at culver’s & have a birthday dinner for misha (for anyone not in the midwest of the u.s., culver’s is a wisconsin based hamburger chain–the only chain restaurant i willingly eat at.)
so i spent too much time with dusty for my own good–upcoming pages on that!
and i got my four wild children back for the rest of the month.
add on to that an explosion of ducklings. my muscovies enjoy hatching eggs, but then they abandon the babies leaving me to find duckling bits around the yard. if i am lucky, i find them before they are dead, but it’s about 50/50 at this point.
additionally,
my brain is not able to completely come to terms with life & death on the farm & instead of staying up nights stressing about having to butcher lambs, i decided to get rid of my ram (so no more pregnant ewes) & to just have some fat, happy ewes eating grass. someone offered to buy my ram–luke (pictured above after a horn injury.) luke is a sweet ram & iggy (my child who is convinced i don’t love him–or so he says) is very attached to him. so there is a lot of drama over his leaving. we are all very sad. plus, the couple buying him wanted a ewe to go with him so they could start breeding. so we had to send our beautiful buttercup with him. which is also sad. plus buttercup left behind the other ewe & buttercup’s six month old lamb. so everyone, me–iggy–& all the sheep–have been crying since yesterday when luke & buttercup left.
good news. they are going to live on pasture of a small farm & get to have babies. the other options for sheep aren’t as nice. so i am happy they are going somewhere nice…but feel like a penniless jerk because i am unable to give them a home–forcing them into the scary move & causing all the other sheep (& iggy) to be sad.
but i keep thinking of winter & all the hay i need to buy…plus not wanting to “deal” with lambs when they get to a certain age & i can no longer put off the inevitable….
i’m just in over my head.
seriously.
with four very demanding minions & a yard full of animals to take care of….
it’s overwhelming.
i’m exhausted.

i have pages written & two more canvas ideas…plus! one night while unable to sleep–i started writing more moses jones!! i have been stalled on that since, what, april?
so i’m taking my journal with me to a car maintenance appointment & will try to get pages done/mojo plot written.

feeling it

i kinda feel like
opening my wrists
& painting one last
picture
blood for ink
ink for blood
until nothing is
left
of me.
i know this is not
a healthy thought
a hopeful thought
but it is a feeling
i cannot
deny.
you might even feel it
too
if you were
overwhelmed
unloved
emotionally stripped
to the bone
& pretty much sure
you’d done it all
wrong.

another inspirational post for my birthday.
i have been looking at art on instagram & hating my art…again. so i did this one with a bamboo pen to mix things up a little. i want to be more abstract. but i am not sure how to do that. so i might have to start trying harder. i know it is hard to break those habits of realism. even for someone like me who barely lives in reality.

anyhoo. i am not out on a ledge. i am just having a really rough time. the usual suspects. four year olds & forty year olds.
and birthdays.
and…well…life.

but i’m not giving up just yet.

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