something completely different

so i can’t just go from point A:  inspiration to point B: execution of idea.
for me it’s more like “oh! i have an idea!”
but first i have to water & feed the livestock
do dishes
start laundry
make breakfast
wait, i have time for a shower
now i have to clean up after breakfast
now! now i can sit down & draw out my idea….
(which of course is when someone needs help with something)

sometimes this destroys my creative flow…other times it creates an atmosphere of percolation where i mull over the idea in my head as i
do dishes
laundry
cook
take a shower
until the point where i know exactly how i want to execute my idea.

so i have been bothered by this for some time. people who tell me it is inconsistent for me to believe in climate change while questioning vaccines and genetically modified foods. it occurred to me this morning that there is more than one kind of science. this is just an observance…not a well-researched thesis. however, as i see it, there is natural science (how a rainbow happens, what causes a hurricane, why climate change is real)…and then there is what i want to call “man-made” science (plastic, cloning, strip mining & pipelines). i mean the human pursuit of science often falls on the wrong side of “just because you can do it does not mean you should do it.” and i think this is probably caused by man thinking his science is superior to that of nature. he takes something natural & perverts it to meet his needs.

it’s a thought in progress. bear with me.

so i have had four pregnancies. the first two ended with doctors convincing me i was unable to give birth & cutting the baby out of me.
with my third pregnancy, knowing my body wants to go to at least 42 weeks and hearing doctors say they would not allow me to go past 41 without interventions…i quit doctors. i had two home births. and the babies came out when they were ready. after 42 weeks. healthy, normal, and with the bodies of babies born at the right time.
so this started my journey from what convention & mainstream would call “rational” to what i am today–someone who prefers to trust my instincts and question man-made science.

i believe in science. nature is science. fucking around with science is humans trying to beat nature. but we have created this culture where you are not allowed to question anything remotely “science” or you are ridiculed as a crackpot.
fuck that.
question everything.

look where not questioning what we are told by “scientists” has gotten us.
look at the general health & state of mind of the united states.
look at the state of our climate & our environment.

okay.
rant done.

ps. i am not going to argue this with anyone. i believe in my instincts & my intuition, and i am not ignorant (though admittedly not an expert) on these topics. if you don’t agree with me, that’s all you.
take care.

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and so this is christmas

i used to joke
every year
“will this be the christmas
someone dies?”
dark jokes
somehow kept us alive
my dysfunctional family
…then
two years in a row
someone i loved
died
right around christmas time

my parents have
planned
to visit me
this christmas
unbidden
the thought
popped
right back into my head
again

so i drew my bottom half the way i always drew christmas trees when i was a kid. does anyone see that? i liked that idea.
my folks, whom i am estranged from–yet whose house i live in–are coming back to visit me? my kids? their house?
and i am terrified.
i think it triggered a lot of the darker stuff i have been posting in the last few days, their planned visit.
my parents…let me tell you about my parents….
(it’s a bladerunner reference…i’m not really going to tell you about my parents. that is a whole series of psychology books)

so cold…so dark

“so cold…so dark,” is what they others taught him to say.
and it’s funny to hear
a four year old loudly whispering
“so cold…so dark.”
it’s funny…in a creepy way
and we all laugh to hear him say it.
“so cold…so dark,” i whisper to myself.
it feels different coming out of my mouth.
like it dwells inside me
that cold
that dark
and i wonder
what kind of mother am i?

perchance to dream

the other morning
in a dream
i was in iceland
and trying to get back to my kids
who were on the top floor of a hotel
i considered taking the elevator
but if you have ever been in one of my dreams
you know to avoid elevators
so i took the stairs
and it took forever
because they weren’t all in the same place
finally
i found the last flight of stairs
but peter dinklage was ahead of me
and somehow i pissed him off
so he started kicking away the stairs
creating a chasm for me to fall into
but i grabbed him
and the open doorway
and pulled him back
to scare him just a little
before throwing the both of us
up & out of the chasm.

every morning i wake at sunrise & then fight to get a few more hours of sleep. you know, to be more rested…but also! also because that is when i have my best dreams. dreams that speak to me the clearest.

i quickly interpreted this one as saying that even though i am scatterbrained (how long had my children been alone in a hotel room?) and struggle with political correctness (dwarf tossing?) i am a better mom than i think i am & will not let myself fall into a chasm.
also, i am still afraid of relationships (elevators represent relationships in my dreams.)

writing out the entire dream today, i noted that i said to some man who was standing next to the elevator i was briefly considering, “i can’t take the elevator, i am afraid of dragons.”
which seemed weird to me…since i’m not afraid of dragons.
then i realized something.
dusty was born in year of the dragon and identifies himself as such.
dusty is a dragon.
i am afraid of finding myself in another relationship with a dusty.
so i avoid all relationships.

i find myself deeply sad a lot these days. i think, maybe, for this very reason. i want to get into that elevator…but i can’t. it is too fucking scary.
but still….

and i watch romantic comedies with sam rockwell…or ben stiller…in them…and i just feel deeply deeply sad.

my anxiety writes a poem

if my oldest son
never comes home
i will have to take his homemade ship
to the river myself
to launch it
after so many times of telling him,
“no, not today…”
i will have run out of days to spend
with him
maybe i will set it on fire
have a viking funeral
as i wish he would come home
if my second son
never comes home
i will never be able to return the movie
we are supposed to watch together
i will have to keep it
and pay the library
for it
knowing i could buy a cheaper copy
i will never let go
of the movie we were supposed to watch
as i wait for him to come home
if my daughter never comes home
i will build a shrine of
barbie dolls
and tutus
i will sit and sing to myself
surrounded by her special things
i will wish i could hear her
speak words
have a conversation with me
just once
just once
as i hope for her to come home
if my youngest son never comes home
i will die inside
knowing i wasn’t the mother to him
that he needed me to be
knowing that i failed him
from the beginning
and the only way i can save him
is to save myself
and bring him home to me

sometimes when my kids go to visit their dad, i go to a special hell reserved for moms. sometimes i breathe and relax and enjoy my alone time. other times i climb the walls and let the demons chisel at my thoughts.

i didn’t intend to be a stay-at-home mom. however, when it came time for me to go back to work after fidgit was born, i found i couldn’t do it. at first i tried taking him to work with me, which was strangely tolerated. but i realized i was doing two jobs half-assedly and decided i needed to make a choice.
i chose being a mom.
and it has been a hard road. a very hard road. my ego has suffered a lot and sometimes i find myself wondering, “what if–” about my choice to be a mom at all. and then the catholic part of me kicks in and i live in fear that i have hexed my children with such thoughts.

being a mom is so fucking complicated.

i just want my kids to come home so i don’t have time to think about it.

cagey

as faux spring passes back into winter
i enjoy the brisk wind
as it pushes against me
and the fire of my brain calms
as my minions go off
to stay with their dad
i embrace my simple solitude
venturing out of the house
only to prove i can.
the anger has softened
the moon is new
i feel,
once again,
like i can handle life.

cagey3

i think it was really tearing me apart that i wanted to celebrate spring, but the spring i wanted to celebrate was actually a dangerous thing that could really fuck up the growing season (not to mention the world)…those beautiful warm days were a bitter reminder that we have an administration in power that wants to go backwards at a time where even going forward isn’t going to stop the damage that has been done. but it’s forward…not backward.

i mean, it’s hard to imagine people of this country, people of the world, embracing a carbon-free lifestyle…i mean, that was difficult enough…now knowing that there are people in power who want to fuck it all the fuck up….

it’s too much for me.

cagey2

warm days in winter spell death to me…not temporary spring…but death.

so as much as i wanted to enjoy those days of 60 & 70 degree weather. it was killing me.

so now that it is cold again, i feel like i can breathe again.
coincidentally, my minions went away to see their dad for a week just as the weather turned cold again.
and i feel like i can breathe again.

i love my minions…but often question whether i can be a mom or not. do i have it in me? was it a mistake? and why even wonder about this when i have four kids and it’s not like i can just say, “hey! do-over!”

but then they go away and i wonder how i would exist without them.

cagey1

death to tyrants.

i’m still a mess.
thank you for asking.
i’m pretty sure no one has even noticed my facebook absence.
i like the word “pariah.”
i often feel like i am one.
pariah.

maybe i shouldn’t live in isolation.
well, we did go to the park today.
so it’s not total isolation.
of course, we drove 15 miles to go to the park.
fuck.
we live in isolation.
in trump-ville, illinois.
okay, not everyone is a republican here, but the votes of this part of illinois are offset by the votes of chicago. this is the red part of illinois.
so red.
and i am here.
a freak.
a pariah.
at the park with my kids….

okay, it wasn’t that bad.
though i have lived in college towns the majority of my life for a reason. i don’t worry about sticking out–too much. college towns are liberal. pekin, illinois…not so much. (up until very recently, their highschool mascot was the “chink”)
fuck a duck.
but small towns can surprise you.
just like liberal towns can surprise you with how white they are
small towns can surprise you with how much they care about you–as a person.
as an individual.

one of the reasons i am so depressed & generally antagonistic
is that i am lovesick
which is extraordinarily dumb
because said person, my unrequited love, is just that
unrequited.
i love him still
after 20 years
or more.
i fucked up a good thing
and now leonard cohen is dead.
(he introduced me to leonard cohen…and yes, i broke down & bought some beer & now i am fuzzy.)

have you ever seen cat on a hot tin roof ? brick drinks to hear that “click.”
that is what it is like sometimes when i drink.
when i am depressed & drinking & just looking for the click.

fuck a duck.

god, i’m grumpy.

shortly after trump (or turnip as i drunkenly typed first) was elected, i was looking at the obituaries and found myself thinking, “ah…the lucky ones.”

anyhoo!
so this is a comic that i thought of today when i realized i could shout, “death to tyrants!” every time i swatted a fly and maybe the universe would carry the action of my killing a small parasite to a realm of the world where that energy could go towards stopping a big parasite….
so i did a comic.
remember, i do comics.
but i really get more satisfaction out of my daily ink blot tests….
hmmm.