even in my nightmares i wonder at the pain i feel of losing someone i have already let go of…. i said goodbye to him but in my dreams when he says goodbye it hurts like a thousand knives a dream i have too often his cold eyes looking away his ears deaf to my pleas his touch a forbidden never again & i feel such profound dispair even though when awake i do just fine without him….
i’m trying to figure out why i keep having this dream. in my experience, when i have the same dream over & over, my subconscious is dead set on letting me know something. so why do i have dreams of dusty leaving me even though i have buried him a thousand times now?
so i had a dream this morning about my teenage heartthrob of choice, adam ant. he was at my house…the kids were away…it was the perfect recipe for mischief. why was he at my house? i don’t remember that part of the dream. i do remember him coming on strong. but i wasn’t in the mood & he was being annoying so annoying that i took him by the shoulders & said to him, “i would be the best you have ever had, but you would just remind me of my ex-husband.” because he already reminding me of my ex-husband clingy & annoying but i consented to a kiss…i knew i was a good kisser, but i was having my doubts about him i went in all gentle & sexy only to get viciously probed by a pointy little tongue so i stopped, pushed his tongue back in his mouth & told him “knock it off.” but he didn’t…so the kissing stopped then the kids came home so i figured that was that i offered to show him the posters i had of him from when i was a kid. he was game i found the posters, but only one was of him, the rest had changed to me posters of me i said, “the posters have changed–like they would if i were dreaming.” then he came at me with a back rub…the foreplay technique that has, historically, relaxed me into many a tight spot…. so i said, “fine.” & started figuring out where we could sneak off to. he asked if my bed was clean & i said, “i gave birth in that bed!” i asked him if he had protection, & he just shrugged i was a bit worried about where he has been i knew i had condoms but i didn’t tell him that i did start working out a cover story to tell the kids & readying a room for us….
if you made it this far, that’s where i was woken up by feisty morning minions. i have heard said that no one is interested in your dreams…but this one was so empowering & entertaining for me, that i just had to share. seemingly laden with messages. i haven’t quite worked it all out yet, but the dream seems to be all about me.
ps. the image is from an old journal page showing 20-something me & my therapist. lately i am really missing making comics. i might be headed back to comics…..
i don’t like the way my heart quickens when i see your name i don’t like that my first instinct is to hide the crazy to trod gently to not scare you away i don’t like the yearning i feel when i see your eyes when i read your words… the last thing i need is another broken heart.
this was originally posted on july 24, 2018. i used bamboo pen on the re-do. i really like it. i am hoping to get enough of these together that i can publish a book of self-portraits & free verse. so stay tuned.
this morning i was heavy with dreams. usually i wake up and can’t fall back asleep even though i don’t want to get out of bed. this morning, even if i tried to wake up, i was pulled back into dreams. my dreams did not want to let me go. they were fun too. i had moved back to austin, texas & was having romantic trysts with two of my more tragic crushes. ah…yummy.
this was written as i was considering having a crush on someone. however, that person kept being such a bonehead that i could not fully fall head over heels for him. that’s the problem with crushes. i’m fickle, & they usually piss me off before i can be completely crushed.
after writing about needing some mad love so i can lose some weight…i started thinking about my crushes. other than johnny shipley, in all my years of tripping into love, there is only one other crush who did not end up disappointing me & still holds a bright spot in my heart. jimmy phillips. ah…he was a sweet one. even though he borrowed my toothbrush & then told me it was time to get a new toothbrush…he was still too good to be true. maybe if it’s the right guy, nothing will disappoint me. then again, both jimmy & johnny ran for the hills after just a short romantic interlude with me. maybe i only fall for impossible men…but that’s a post for another day.
so there’s the tough bit, y’all. i fall in love easily…but i fall right back out again almost just as quick. poop.
i have been thinking debating i added another tier to my patreon page a $1 tier where i can post my art journal pages sketches works in progress & sneak peeks which means i will not be posting as much here it’s an exercise in taking myself seriously and trying to make a go of my dreams but as a girl who always gives it away for free and who doesn’t mind giving it away loving the idea of a world of trade & mutual support a world where money is not an issue alas. maybe someday but today i have to buy groceries notebooks clothes & shoes for my kids buy food for my pets buy art supplies so i can keep doing art and! spend money to support other artists & writers (also, one day soon, pay rent & utilities) so for now the bulk of my posts will be over on my patreon page for one dollar a month. i understand if this is too much i totally get it. but maybe, just maybe i can get some patrons & then be able to afford to do the same for my fellow artists & writers & crafters of all types.
whether you join me over on patreon or not, i really really really appreciate your support. & i’m not disappearing from here, i just have realized how much energy i spend on this site and wonder what would happen if i put that energy into trying to earn money for my art.
i want to be the samuel l. jackson of the art world i used to say you know grandma moses so i’d have plenty of time but now i’m thinking sooner rather than later & with as much profanity as possible so… hold onto your butts.
samuel l. jackson had a relatively late start to movie acting. he got rolling in his 40s. now he is an icon. so, yeah. that’s my aspiration.
it wasn’t until i became a mother that i stopped doing whatever i wanted whenever i wanted to although that is not entirely true after all i was the type of mother i wanted to be ignoring parenting magazines & how-to books to do instead what i wanted to do what i thought best however motherhood did slow me down & throw up roadblocks no more instant gratification i had to start playing the long game because really i do still follow my desires & live my life the way i decide but this motherhood path this path is definitely more tricky to maneuver.
this verse, this concept, and even the illustration are terribly rough. (you ever use your hair to cover up a pimple or a bald spot? yeah, that’s kinda what’s going on here….) man, i even resorted to using some white out–i almost never do that–you know, choosing to live with my mistakes is one reason i use ink. but i really fucked this one up. i did not write it intending it to be part of the fallen series…but due to its topic being “desires”…i felt it fit. if anything makes me the devil, it is my determination to follow my desires. as well as my encouraging others to do so.
i feel i should explore this further, desires vs. motherhood. motherhood definitely puts a kink in one’s dreams–even ifpart of those dreams were to be a mother…cause little demons, they aren’t always what you expect & plan for. yes, this thought needs fleshing out.
my cruel subconscious that two-faced cunt has to know what a mess i am (it has a front row seat to my pain) so why does it wait until i am asleep vulnerable to take a stick & poke me hard in the tender spots with dreams of you?
nothing like a fresh obsession to get the journal pages going again.
while i wait for my latest case of obsession to pass, i am thankful that i am not really able to ride my bike past his house three times a day as he lives three states away. and i have a houseful of kids a yardful of critters depending on me to not jump in the river of crazy and swim away. so there is that.
i can feel you in my bones like a nostalgia you can wear snug & warm comforting but suffocating i can feel you & i watch for you to somehow wander back into my life while telling myself to knock it the fuck off i can feel you in the tears i can no longer cry but still do i can feel you like an impending thunderstorm the smell of rain anticipation hope.
it has been almost five months since i have looked at his instagram. but i did look, after the dreams started. and he is in illinois. chicago, at least. and i can imagine him coming to see me. i can imagine it so vividly. the look on his face what he would say….
there are just two men whom i have actually, truly loved out of the dozens–yes dozens–of men whom i have known, you know, biblically…. once loved…always loved. that’s how i know the love was (is) true. how do you forget something like that?
it pops up in your dreams to haunt you & you find yourself doodling him as the leia to your luke. (before it was known they were actually siblings)
in my dream i was on a blind date i knew it was not going to work out but i ordered pad thai anyway & tried to make conversation when suddenly seymour you were scooching in next to me your arm slung over my shoulder whispers in my ear in my dream you filled my senses & my date was forgotten of course i left with you & when i woke up i was left without you but i clung to the dream the feeling not letting it fade i held tight like every other time i dream of you i clutched it close & wondered if you knew you were in my dream & wondered was i in yours?
is it because it’s christmas-time? is that why my brain is torturing me? or is he thinking of me & i am so fucking empathic that i can feel it three states away? or is he closer? home for the holidays? oh my god. i was barely thinking of him. i thought i had let him go. is that why he is back? fuck a duck. i had the dream sometime during the night. it was not the only dream he was in, but it was the one i held tightest to & kept with me until morning, etched into my brain so it would not fade away. when i got up in the morning and walked into my kitchen, of course the time on the clock was his birthday. 7:28 how many times do i see that on my clock and try to pretend it means nothing? well, merry fucking christmas. i got a haunting.
creeping uninvited unwanted my self-conscious with a cruel twist brings him to life in my dreams again i push him out turn off the radio when our song plays write one thousand poems to exorcise his haunting of me yet! he creeps uninvited…unwanted back into my dreams where i am defenseless back into my heart where i am ruined all over again.