a poem for the full moon

my anger clings
to me
so tight
i can’t breathe
i can’t breathe…
i want to shed my anger
like a skin
i don’t want it anymore
i don’t need it
anymore
i want a new
fresh
skin
to welcome the world
to paint pictures on
to tell stories with
to experience love
& wonder
& all the beautiful things
that my anger
keeps at arm’s length
in some misguided
attempt
to protect me
from life…
i want to shed my anger
like a skin
& be born again
light
free
& happy.

bit murky

i grew up with a pond (i actually live there again–next to said pond–after being gone almost 30 years) so i can attest that this inking is actually pretty accurate.

is there a word for someone with a fear of the murky depths? i mean, i swim in lakes & in the ocean…but i cannot lose that nagging feeling about the things i cannot see.

bitmurky1

maybe that’s with everything though. fear of what i cannot see. monsters under the water. faces in the window when my back is turned. creepy crawlers just right out of sight. blessed & cursed with an active imagination.

we could delve deeper.
fear of the unknown.
fear of what i cannot control.

bitmurky2

fear. it’s not a word i really ever associate with myself. i mean, i will do most anything on a dare. i will purposely forge into terrain that makes me uncomfortable. i don’t believe in letting fear stop me.

but i do let it stop me. i have a fear of success. in both art & relationships. i have a fear of swimming into the murky bits of myself and exploring. i have a fear of living up to my full potential.

isn’t that weird? where does that come from?

my first beluga whale

so there was this open space in the upper right hand corner that kept me perplexed through quite a few episodes of offspring today.

(now i feel defensive about the fact that i am sitting in a chair zoning out to dramadies when maybe i should be doing something productive…or at least cleaning the fucking living room or scrubbing out the toilet that has some mystery staining going on…earning money towards my building debt? fuck. this all started when i became a stay at home mom…the feeling defensive if i’m not doing ten things at once. thinking someone is going to say something snide…well, okay, because the ex always did.
so now i am sitting on my ass crying over a tv show because they pointlessly killed off my favorite character.
fuck.)

beluga1

so anyway. this blank spot. i found so many things on the left side of the paper and it was getting so lopsided. but all i  could see were more dragons and i just could not do another dragon inking. so i looked & looked & looked and then realized there could be something getting ready to dive into that pond there.

and that’s when i found my happy beluga whale.

tada.

i like this picture. it seems…happy-ish.

my dogs should come home tomorrow. from the vet. they are almost fully de-toxed. i don’t know how much it will cost, but i did manage to sell eleven prints in my first attempt to make money with my art. so that’s exciting.

and terrifying.

and i am terrified.

i might have a deep fear of happiness & success & being loved & being able to love…. i don’t feel worthy, i guess. like i’m too badly damaged to do the stuff that normal people do.

fuck.

but i did this inking today. and started getting an order ready for printing….
wait.
maybe i should dress up & pretend i am someone else when i try to sell my art. that always worked when i used to wait tables…hmm. maybe i am on to something.

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