magnificent

i shouted my demons down
who told you
i was that?
who told you
you could call me
that?
i am not
what you say
i am
rather
i am magnificent
i am majestic
i am fabulous
not
what you say about me
but
what i say about me
i am
feral fey
witchy woo
i am
magical.

i have started doing this whenever i hear those fucking little demons whispering nastiness into my ear. i shout at them. i tell them how wonderful i am.
so far so good.

day ten

day ten at madness
manor
temperatures in the 90’s
& internal
conflict
afoot
who am i?
& why does that little
voice
whisper
“fat…ugly…old
irrelevant”
no!
i chose this
i did
i took this path
because i am not like
them
my bohemian spirit enjoys
doing dishes in a clawfoot
tub
digging through a cooler
for food
hanging laundry amid the trees
to dry…
this is who i am
i chose
this.

after a couple of days of spinning out. i came to this conclusion.
i did this. i want this. i made this my life.
there is method to my madness at the manor.

irrelevant

i am irrelevant
redundant
pointless

and cannot spell “irrelevant” apparently. thank god for autocorrect.
as spoken of yesterday…loneliness & strong beer kinda made me spin out. or maybe i was just overdue for a visit from my demons…

i drew a cat because my cats are driving me up a wall. plotting against me. hunting my fairies. new house; old cats. we are all figuring it all out all over again.

food fight with demons

i’m pretty sure
my main issue
is that i have
multiple
incompatible
personalities
tea parties with demons
always end
in food fights.

short & sweet & to the point. i have been venturing in to talk with my many personalities. when i was a kid, i found i was unable to give the love & attention needed to all of my stuffed animal toys….so i locked them in a closet.
i can’t really do that with all of the different me’s i have found inside when trying to heal. there is a lot of me…& i need to figure out what we all need.
all of us.

body image

i hate my body
i know
i’m not supposed
to hate my body
i’m supposed to
embrace
me
celebrate
me
lumps & bumps & all
but instead
i want to take a knife
& slice
off
parts of me
genetics & motherhood & age
have conspired
against me
&
left me
this blobby
mess.

this one is a pesky demon. when i was younger and my jeans stopped fitting, i just ate less & exercised more. voila!
now, after four pregnancies
& right into perimenopause….
crap.
i feel betrayed by my body.
add on stress and too many years with an emotionally abusive motherfucker and sometimes i look in the mirror and am so fucking disturbed by what i see….

demons to wrestle, y’all.

unlovable

i don’t want to be
alone
but i cannot imagine
anyone
loving me….

my broken bits shine in this one. it’s a deep fear of mine…or deep belief. i am working on rooting it out. as you will see in coming pages about my body image, mother image, and aging which affect and are affected by my feeling unlovable. hopefully i can exorcise this demon one day soon…or, entanglement of demons (the name of my next band.)

on dreams, demons, & being haunted

in the dream
it was a lonely house
on a hill
shrouded in darkness
foreboding
terrifying
until i was forced to enter
to save us all
from a greater
danger…
the house was
beautiful
on the inside
…but haunted…
a specter
rose up
threateningly
behind my companion
i wrestled it to the ground
only to realize
it was just
a child
“tell me why
you have so much
anger?”
i asked the child
&
the pain
was
released.

so this is a dream i had. it was pretty profound & felt really meaningful. i laid in bed pondering it. what do i do with this?
am i supposed to help other people exorcise their demons? or is it just another pat on the back from the universe for doing all the work to wrestle my own?
of course, i am still wrestling my demons.
case in point, my inking today is heavily borrowed from the artist david mack because i am going through a thing where i think my own work sucks & what is the point?
today, while on a walk, i started asking my frowning face–“why so stressed? what is there really to be stressed about?” and for a moment i let myself smile again.
but i can find reasons to be sad & even woke up this morning to a dream of my telling someone that sometimes i just don’t have a smile inside me….

so, yeah, still wrestling some demons….

falling to earth

i’m quite a way
away
from my comfort zone
(i cannot
see
my house from here)
major tom to ground control
who
do i think
i am?
my demons have launched
a counter
attack
(they are calling it
a rescue
mission)
to tow me back
to my comfortable
confined
cubby
where nothing happens
so i have nothing
to worry
about.

more anxiety art journaling due to venturing out of my comfort zone. i think these demons might live in many households, whispering, keeping people from doing things they want to do….
i think of that scene from labyrinth where sarah is manipulated by goblins into thinking she is safely back in her room with all her favorite things instead of rescuing her baby brother.
that’s totally what it feels like.

isn’t this cozy

my demons whisper
“what if you never
left
the comfort of yourself
ever
again?
wouldn’t that be cozy
not one bit
scary
just build a fort
out of your
journals & art
your books
& stories
rather than letting
the world
see your soft
& vulnerable
underbelly…
trust me
we are the only ones
who really
truly
care
now put down your pen
& come back
to bed.”

my demons are having a heyday. my art show being hung. a book being released. & last night i met with people interested in creating some magic here in the driftless. i left my house & risked my safety to interact with who knows who…but it was cool. i met an authentic person wanting to move forward with this vision. someone who shared a similar worldview…& who also had to wrestle a few demons to leave the house.

tea party with demons

the voices come
& the voices whisper
“you’re fucked.”
it’s my nightly meeting
with my demons
they’ve come for a tea party
butter on toast
(monsters love toast)
it’s a thing
every night
the whispers
& epic songs
telling of my ultimate
& fanatastic
failures
i love my demons
i do
i might even miss them
if they were
gone
miss their nasty
little
whispers
& predictions
of doom…
but no worries
they are always
close by
to keep me
company.

a few beers & witchery with a friend had me singing this out about my demons. what is light without dark? what is good without mischief? i do love my demons. they keep me on my toes.

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