scribbles & doodles & coloring pages

as i drink my tea
forsaking the coffee
(which taunts me
yumminess
paired
with
addiction
& achy kidneys)
i eat my toast
with jam
and referee
squabbles
while considering
my own scribbles
an itch at the back
of my mind
something undiscovered
something untapped
i can feel
something
wonderful
if i can just get my pen
& brain
to work as one.

i was watching flowers on netflix, a delightfully dark british sitcom. the patriarch of the family flowers writes dark children’s books about trolls. the illustrations immediately drew me in. so i started doodling some trolls of my own to see if i could.
today i found this other doodle on the brown paper that i use in between sheets of my journal to keep the ink from leaking onto blank pages. i doodle on it sometimes, but hadn’t looked at it in awhile. i found this drawing appealing in the same way as the troll illustrations.
however, i am not sure where to go with either one of them. so i guess i will just keep messing around until i figure it out.

meanwhile, i have become misha’s artist on demand for coloring pages. she had me do two more this morning and has requested a mom & dad dragon with baby dragons after i do a picture of myself & her dad riding a swan.
i asked if the swan could be flying while i am pushing her dad off of the swan, and she began pretend crying & ran from the room.
sigh.
the things i do for my minions (i don’t want to be near that motherfucker even in illustration. i can barely look at the illustration for “absolution” from a few days back. ack! but now i have to ride a goddamn swan with him….)

ps. unlike her brothers, misha is not colorblind. just to be sure, i asked her about her colored page, “what color is the grass?” she replied, “orange.”
& i said, “awesome.”
my girl.

saint valentine’s day massacre

i am a mess.
i can’t seem to create.
i am all grumpy & screamy & desperate for space from children…& closeness with a grown up.

i tried to do an inking yesterday. it sucked ass. and then a minion got something on it. so i burned it in the fireplace.
it was called “unraveled”

yesterday i also got the bright idea to make valentines.
so i spilled red ink all over the place.
now i actually have to find the focus to make them.
when all i feel like doing is hiding in the closet with a bottle of whiskey.

i used to love valentine’s day.
you know, when i was stupid & optimistic
(i still am…now i call it “quixotic”)
i have no good experiences on which to base my love of valentine’s day.
just that annoyingly optimistic willingness to be loved.
i want(ed) so badly to be loved…that i was willing to enter hopefully into every valentine’s day.
i have never been the type of girl to get flowers from boys. no matter how much i wished it.
i’m just not that girl. i don’t know why. and sometimes i let it break my heart.
usually after i have a charlie brown valentine’s day.

i have written about my lost love of my life.
the one i have finally accepted that i will never get over (which really doesn’t make it that much easier to live with–my acceptance of my infliction, that is)
when our relationship came to it’s terrible conclusion, it was valentine’s day. he was in love with someone else, so he got me something i really wanted for valentine’s day.
a pair of white wingtip doc martins.
and i knew i had lost him.
guys only get me good stuff when they feel guilty about something.
that’s what i have learned over the years.
i get guilt presents.
not love presents.

i’m not a materialistic person. but i do like getting presents. i like flowers. i like feeling special. i like feeling like someone loves me.

i’m struggling with this so much right now. this crappy loneliness and heartbroken bullshit. i’ve had two lonely marriages. i have two ex-husbands actively regretting that they treated me so callously. do either of them get me flowers or a bottle of whiskey?

no.

they just lament treating me like crap.
loudly.
as if that helps.
it doesn’t.
because then all i wonder is where this devotion was when i was in love with them?
i’m not anymore.
i’m not in love with them.
but they behave as if i should welcome their renewed love
with open arms.

but, still, no flowers
no chocolates
no whiskey

and the one man who i want to hear renewed devotion from
remains quiet
except for the occasional flirty text:

what’s better than roses on your piano?

tulips on your organ.

and that’s the closest i get to a man giving me flowers.
and the closest i get to having a sex life.
sigh.

well, to make myself even more miserable
i put a price tag on my art.
to make myself feel even more rejected
i am putting my art out there…ish.

after…and before

did i plan on drawing a wildebeest today? okay, i can imagine wanting to draw a bison. but a wildebeest & a fencer?
that’s why i enjoy these drawings. these exercises. they show me things i would not have drawn. i see them. i draw them. and i think, “huh. i’ve never drawn that before.”

animals1

this is what i started with. do you see a wildebeest? a bison? i do. that is fun for me. the cheerleaders…i’m not so sure about. i think there is something deeper. flowers & mother earth. pollination.

it’s been a rough day.
all this crazy energy in the air.
even living out in the country, i can feel it. and it wore me out. i started my picture pretty late because i was so worn out. i felt like negativity was just everywhere.
and hope.
some hope.
i spent too much time on facebook–got in a fight with someone blaming this mess on third party voters…really?? really?? that is ludicrous.

so i took a big nap. listened to the coyotes. looked at the stars. and drew a bison. a wildebeest. some sheep, cheerleaders, flowers, and a fencer.

tomorrow, hopefully, will be a better day.
for art & humankind.

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