air

i drift on the air
lost in my thoughts
feeling
the air move
through me
around me
away
from me
my thoughts
escaping
me.

water

i start with water
because i am
water
a cancer
with scorpio rising
i am an emotional
soup
blood, sweat, and especially
tears
i wash myself away
& emerge
baptized.

elemental

i’m feeling angsty.
like my art sucks
which is dumb…but it is what it is
so!
instead of moping
i am fiddling with my style.
i will post one each day
for the next few days
of my elemental
doodles.

me & bobby mcgee

how did i ever
let you go
all those years back
now
i look at you
& wonder
at the fucking audacity
of twenty-something me
who threw you away
as easy
as a bag of chips
i’d lost my taste for
do you know how
frustrated
i am
at the me
that wasted
my chance with you?

i changed this up from the original because i am not really angry with twenty-something me. i know i was acting out of a sense of self-preservation with almost no foresight. i thought i knew what i was doing. but i was a fucked up kid & really didn’t know.
i don’t blame me
i don’t blame him
it just is what it is. a sad story.
our song was “me & bobby mcgee” which is a really stupid song to have. self-fulfilling prophecy anyone? except i would not ever trade all of my tomorrows for one of my yesterdays.

& in truth, the reason he won’t talk to me today, is something done by forty-something me. i don’t remember exactly what i said or did to turn him away, but we were kind of friends before that. i was in a very bad place at the time. again, i don’t hate me for it, but i wish i could have had some foresight…could have realized that my dumpster fire was mine to deal with & not lashed out at others…oh well.
maybe fifty-something me will get it right.

misery be damned

he hates me
because
i did not construct
my life around
suffering
a failed
catholic
i am unable
to seek
a miserable
life.

saw my ex (father of my children aka dusty knickers) yesterday and not only did i diffuse an attack he attempted, but also did i express to him, calmly, that he is perhaps motivated by misery.
& he seemed to listen.
i tried & tried & tried, while we were together, to convince him that we could live a better life. he persisted in his misery.
eventually i left him to it.
& now he seems to resent that i am following my dreams.
durp.

love letter II

to dance with you
again
to sing to you
again
to hold you in my heart
forever…
i have to let you go
& hope you find
your way
to me.

once upon a time a boy who was a friend of mine had a dream and traveled from montana to illinois to fall in love with me. we said we were soul mates. we said we were a split-apart. we said we would be bigger than the beatles….
but we were so young & stupid & i started thinking maybe we had “split-apart” for a reason, and i was too young to realize how lucky i was to have him.
now with worlds explored & years lived, i know how lucky i was…and how stupid…
and keep hoping i could get lucky again.

i don’t have any good photos of him because i stupidly burned all photos of my many exes on full moon in athens, georgia. i got these copies from one of my sisters.

love letter

i love you
i know this
i want you
in my life
but
there’s that stupid thing
people say
you know
all about if you love something…
so
i set you free
(as if i ever held you)
i set you free
& dream
you will come back
to me.

so i started feeling as if i was harassing & possibly traumatizing him with the avalanche of deep feelings letters written by an ex-fiance from the 1990’s…. i started feeling like a bully. that whole, “i will make him love me!”
ack.
so no more unsolicited letters.
i’m setting that bird free.

gentle now

i remember those bosses
at inconsequential jobs
being mean
just to be mean
believing that being nice
being gentle
would lead to disrespectful
employees
here i am
being mean to myself
just to be mean
believing
i don’t deserve nice
i don’t deserve gentle
& if i am sweet
to me
i might forget
who’s the boss.

thoughts as my knee forces me to treat myself gently. see? i’m learning.

queen of breakdowns

exploring my relationship
with patience
exploring my non
relationship
with patience
i want it now
now now now
patience, that is
i want it now…
alas
though i do not prescribe to
good things come to those who wait
i do believe
if it is worth having
it is worth fighting for.

i can’t tell you how many letters i have written to this man since i have broken my knee. it started out like one a week…now it is two or three a week? i have so much to say to him…but he still has nothing to say to me. nevertheless, i keep writing. not knowing if the letters are opened or not. read or not. maybe that isn’t even the point. maybe it is all just an exercise in patience.
in knowing what i want & fighting for it.
i have realized, on the topic of vulnerability, that i do feel vulnerable to him…& maybe that is why winning him back–in one capacity or another–is so important to me. i cannot be vulnerable to just anyone. but i am to him. open & exposed.

in other news…
i have been going to an energy worker/chiropractor for a few years now. river of ahz in viroqua. he is totally worth it. i have seen him for my knee (& the resulting chaos to the rest of me) twice now. both times, after, my knee has felt like a new knee.
today i am even walking with just one crutch instead of two.
& i have put a rubber tip on my bokken to use it as a walking stick as i try to wean myself off of the crutches altogether.

& speaking of breakdowns…i have not even had one today–despite the usual challenges of motherhood. so we can set the sign to 1 day since mom’s last breakdown.
yay!

queen of breakdowns…9X12 inking on watercolor paper…suggested price of $45 to $75

break my heart gently

you know what?
i don’t need an editor because i fucking rock at grammar, etc
what i do need
is a test audience
readers
who want to read my novel
& answer a few questions for me
general feedback
like
do you like me…yes or no?
can you fit your fist through any of the holes
in the plot?
that kind of thing

my only taker so far is my younger sister aka my polar opposite. i am willing to let her read it because she does get me–at least sometimes. and we did come from the same place even though we took different exits (i was vaginal; she was a c-section; i ran away to become a fry cook; she went to college, etc….)

who else wants to read a better life through sock puppets? a darkly funny story of a runaway suicidal mom? yay!
just remember, in critiquing it for me…break my heart gently.

“break my heart gently” ink on watercolor paper. 9X12. suggested price: $45 to $75

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