bird feeder of epiphanies

i find myself once again
trying to figure out
how to make money
fall from the sky
meanwhile, the universe reminds me
i need to do what i love
do what i love
do what i love…
no matter what
i need to snatch my happiness up
hold tight to my faith & trust
to just
fly.

so i totally watch my bird feeder out my office window all day for messages from the universe. a few days ago, i looked out and wasn’t sure what i was seeing. but once my brain wrapped it’s way around it, i realized i was looking at an enormous hawk, on the ground, under my bird feeder. he saw me seeing him and took flight, carrying away a plump squirrel who had surely been raiding my bird feeder.
it was pretty fucking amazing.
i took it as the universe telling me to just fucking dive in & take my life by the talons.

trust II

i was never taught
to believe in me
i was never taught
to have faith in myself
to trust
that i could
make the right decision
follow that right path…
funny thing
in all my efforts to follow
that path
i had forgotten that learned lack
of faith
that distrust in my own instinct…
but even forgotten
it popped up into my life
to fuck me
all over again.

so! recently i started the process of buying a house. it was in a flood here in the driftless when a dam broke in 2018. the boiler, hot water heater, & electrical system as well as walls & cabinets and most of the kitchen were destroyed in the flood–followed by the owner abandoning the property.

so, you know, deeply damaged, of course i fell in love with this two story, circa 1900 brick house. in all the damage i saw how i could make the house my own.

plus i am in a position to buy it outright.

my heart said, “yes yes yes!” but then the unsolicited advice from family & acquaintances started picking away at my poor (already compromised) brain.

that’s when i remembered my parents telling me “it’s a nice hobby, but what are you really going to do?” when i was a twelve year old artist/writer who had already won contests and just needed that support to believe in myself…which left me wondering for the next 36 years until i finally said, “no. seriously. i want to be an artist & a writer.”
fuck.
how do you learn to believe in yourself when taught not to believe in yourself?

i feel this house & i are meant to be…but i am struggling with believing in myself…which totally sucks.

trust

trust is a thing i struggle
to have faith in
faith
is a thing i struggle
to trust
but maybe
just maybe
i am on the right path
maybe just maybe
i can trust that my journey
is true
have faith
that i am moving in the right
direction

i have had more epiphanies/art journal musings about this in the next few pages. i am struggling with a lot of life decisions and am realizing how little faith in myself i was taught to have. it has been an uphill battle most my life-faith & trust in myself.
bleah.

what would vincent do?

in efforts to stay true to my art
& to myself
i have adopted the mantra
“what would van gogh do?”
…now i find myself wanting
to have drunken fights with other artists
losing body parts
& giving them away
to ones i love.

fuck mainstream comics. fuck “real” art. fuck convention. fuck fitting in. fuck it all. i am what i am.

i want to go back to a more raw appearance for moses jones. back to when she was just a prototype

mjversus2.png

back before i was trying to make her look like the world tells me she is supposed to look. i want my mojo to be rough & raw & ready to fight zombies.

ps. this was the last page of my journal. year of the dog, y’all. new things to come!

finished journal

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