notta not-a-boy page four

i got a fourth page written in record time!
in my defense, the way i do comics does take time.
especially when i am procrastinating…erm…percolating a story in my head.

and in case you are having trouble picturing the notta in me…this is 30 years ago at age 22:

comic art therapy

i have been brainstorming this comic for a week or more. which mostly means i doodle faces while i binge-watch shows (my kids are at their dad’s.)

it is still very much a work in progress…but i do like to share my process with y’all.
i have decided on five main characters…five reluctant mothers.
fun fact, the working title for this comic was: motherfucking twats & cunts. so i think i did manage at least to make it a little more accessible by changing the name to reluctant mothers.
the characters are based on mythological creatures…but they are everyday mums as well.

as always, if you want to support my art & creations, you are welcome to donate funds towards my struggles. you can find paypal information on my love for sale page as well as my artist for hire page, and a ko-fi donation link is on my me (nutshelled) page.
along with notta not-a-boy, i will be exorcising my motherhood demons along side my gender demons via comic art therapy.

and i have also been playing with the idea of revivifying my old comic weener’s coop to continue exorcising my intentional community demons….

and i am still working on my novel.
oh, and i’m a mom…living in a fixer-upper who needs fixing up…sigh.
stay tuned

notta not-a-boy page three

okay. another month with only one page to show for it! my tarot cards keep telling me not to waste a gift. is it pretentious of me to assume they are talking about all the awesome comics that i am not getting written?

maybe

did i embrace
the masculine in me
because
i could not trust
that the feminine
had any worth
or
if valued
valued for all
the wrong
reasons
was i safer
in my masculine
an identity
that would not
betray me?

random thought on nature vs. nurture, i guess.
i accept that i have a very strong masculine side for a woman. i always have for as long as i can remember. but was i born this way…or did i default to this setting due to the dangers of being a girl? i was born into a catholic farming family where “you only need one girl” but out of six, there were four girls born to my parents.
the catholic church was quick to tell me i didn’t matter
the matriarchs of my family quickly echoed the message
and a patriarchal society never lets a girl forget how disposable she is….
so
fuck me
did my sensitive nature embrace my masculine after a quick survey of my abusive surroundings in order to survive being a second-class citizen? or was my masculine nature something as innate as my “man hands” and stout build?
hmmmm….

notta not-a-boy page one

so i decided to use my ink pen instead of my bamboo pen after i royally fucked up the other page when i went to finish it (posted yesterday pre fuck up)
i love the way this turned out. although future pages might be less laugh-in with less color. i feel the color might be distracting.
i love doing comics.
i know my art journal pages seem to appeal to more people–which is totally awesome…but i’m hoping you can find something to love about my comics as well.
this one is a memoir of sorts.
i was hiking today & imagined its press release a little something like this: THE ANDROGYNOUS ADVENTURES OF NOTTA NOT-A-BOY IN A GENDER-BENDING TELL ALL MEMOIR!
right?
do you feel it?

i have written out a couple of pages of text…which would amount to about 30 more pages of comic…so with a little focus i will be bringing more pages of notta not-a-boy your way.

meanwhile, i will try to not lay awake at night worrying i have offended someone.
this is my story; you don’t have to read it…but i do have to write it.

work in progress

i have started writing down deep thoughts about my lifelong flirtation with androgyny…which then became an examination of my masculine & my feminine.
then i was hiking the other day, letting my mind run free, and decided it might make a good comic.
of course i have imposter’s syndrome about my history of gender non-conformation…especially since becoming a mother & growing boobs.
but!
i still think my story might be one worth telling.
so here is the beginnings of (working title) notta not-a-boy

making new comics brings to light my neglecting of my baby moses jones…so i did dig her out and am looking at where that story left off.

meanwhile, i have a list as long as my arm of other comics i want to create. i better get my ass in gear. stop moping in my daily journals & start some storytelling!

xo

invitation to the dance

in typical style of me
i invited my mother
my feminine
to come into power
&
ended up squashing
my masculine
throwing me
out of whack
in a whole other direction
now
i invite my warrior male
back
while still honoring
my soft & yielding feminine
encouraging them
to dance
to blend & whirl
to teach me
when to be vulnerable
& when
to take no prisoners.

i have always had a very strong masculine side. i have started writing some creative non-fiction about what i termed (in the early ’90s) to be my “gender confusion.”
i have always punished myself for not being able to pull off the feminine…for being too manly in nature, but i have also always liked that about myself.
except i thought i was wrong for it….
so i tried so hard to get in touch with my softer side…and must have succeeded? because now i really miss my masculinity & my inner tough guy.
so it’s a dance.
but at least i’m trying to move to the music that is me.

maiden, mother, crone

how can i learn
to be crone
if i have never
learned
how to be maiden
or mother?
how can i accept
my crone
when i am still
pushing
away
my maiden
&
my mother?

more epiphanies on the roadblocks in my path. with my masculine nature being my dominant nature, i struggle with anything “feminine.” and when you put it in the terms of maiden, mother, crone my brain just runs away & denies all affiliation.
so i am working on, among other things, running towards…embracing…my maiden, mother, & crone.

gender bending

my first boyfriend
wore face powder
& lip gloss
(i still remember
the smell of kissing him)
his hair
was longer than mine
but once i shaved
off all
my hair
every one of my boys
had hair
longer than mine
because i so loved
the girly boys
with their long
slender
fingers
& their long
batting
eyelashes
every once in awhile
i dated
a chiseled-chin
dimpled cheeks covered
in manly stubble
all the more fun
to dress
them in
lacy lingerie.

this poem was inspired by a completely harmless innocent tiny little crush on my gender fluid editor-to-be…because i wouldn’t be me if i didn’t develop inappropriately intimate feelings for someone i am to be working with….

meanwhile, the ryan renolds movie marathon continues. (i watched the nines last night & loved it. i am pretty sure i am also a nine & that i have created y’all)
i bet ryan renolds would look hot as fuck dressed in “women’s” clothes….

in other news, i am having dizzy spells & my head feels weird…so i’m pretty sure i have a tumor. here is a conundrum…how does a hypochondriac know when they are actually sick? my anxiety manifests as physical symptoms…but what if i really am sick & just dismissing it as stress-induced?…(see how that can spin out fast?)

also, my lawn really really is supposed to be mowed by conventional standards, but i have a hard time thinking about mowing down all those innocent flowers.
if it weren’t for ticks & mosquitoes, i would totally have a wild as fuck lawn.

may the fourth be with you.

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