badass

why do i so often
paint myself
as the victim
i honestly don’t see myself
as a victim
yes. i fall in love with abusers
but i also leave
yes. i come back
once or twice or a dozen times
(my heart is a loving
& hopeful place)
but i am a badass
& i will not stand by
to have abuses
heaped
on me
& ultimately
i rescue me
ultimately
i leave
ultimately
i heal
it might take a try
or two
but ultimately
i kick ass.

blast from the past

i don’t know why
men treat me this way
i don’t know what i’ve done
to deserve such cruelty
& apathy
i struggle to believe
i’m lovable
i struggle to believe
i’m a good person
yet somehow
i only get used
& tossed aside
i see these people
other people
happy & loving relationships
& i wonder
what’s wrong with me?
so i say to you
pretty boy
don’t worry
everyone kicks me
when i’m down…
it was probably
just your
turn.

another snippet from a 20 year old journal. it was written in prose form, but if i had written it today, i would have written it like this.
it reminds me of one or two of my pages of my the invisible exhibitionist. that last bit.

i’m hoping i have evolved past this lovelorn puddle of me…but if i happen into another relationship…will she return?

2001 a journal odyssey

nevermind
he broke my heart
something
wrong with me
i guess
i’m just something
to use
& toss
aside
unloved
unwanted

i’m tired
of men treating me
like i don’t
matter
how come no one
treats me
like i mean
something
do i think
so little
of myself
that i let
every asshole
take away
a part of me
& piss
on the wound?

these are words i wrote in journals in 2001 when i was 31. they were written as prose, but i could see how they would be written in free verse i journal in these days…so i put them in a page of my journal 20 years later.
maybe now you can see why i am scared of relationships?
granted most of these past 20 years have been spent in just one relationship…but, fuck me, it was a doozy of a mind fuck.

i like to think i have recovered some since i first wrote these words. my art journaling has definitely helped me to scab over some of these wounds.

now, i guess, i peek out of my hole & wait for spring. surely spring is coming? though not with a gentle blossoming but with a storm of the century….
(journal pages not yet written)

ps. though my handwriting & heartache stay somewhat of a constant…i am happy to report that my art has greatly improved!

let the sun shine in

i was happily tucked away
in my dark
dark
corner…
was i though?
was i
happy?
(no one puts
baby
in a corner)
i totally thought
i belonged
in that
corner
i thought i
belonged
in a shoebox
with holes
punched
in the lid
to let in
a little light…
but
what if that is not
enough
what if that little taste
of light
leaves me hungry
for more?

so it happens that i write down my thoughts as they come through me–as i need to vomit out what i am feeling.
then i go back & illustrate on a different day…during, very possibly, a different mood.
so my words can sound hopeful…while my illustration looks positively disturbed. or vice versa.

letting go

balance
again
i find
a need for
balance
when to let go
when to surrender
& when to be
responsible
not delinquent…
learn how to ask myself
“what is the worst
that could happen?”
and let fate
take its
course….

i wrote this ten days ago when i was all “i’m so zen”
then a few days back, i lost my mind to that rabid bunny that creeps about in the dark places of my mind. i became all about control & trying to make things–force things–to go my way when clearly they just weren’t. i could feel the zen still there under the rabid bunny action…but there seemed to be nothing i could do to subdue said bunny.
until i let go
again.
so it’s finding that balance. between zen & rabies. between snarky & enlightened.
it’s a process…..

emerging

there is no room
to stretch
my body hurts
what was supposed to protect
(& did in its time)
now suffocates
& limits growth
encouraging
stagnation
&
decay….
so!
i close my eyes
& visualize
the blood pumping
into wet wings
growing
stronger
growing beautiful
& amazing
i will lift & soar
on the warm sunny wind
i will float
like magic
towards the light
of my moon.

this should be the last one on breaking out of a cocoon because i think i have done it. the new year helped me to shed the last of my old skin and now i can breathe!
my kids were with their dad the whole first week of this year, enabling me to fully dive into my emergence…if that makes sense.
with their return, i have felt a stumble in my force…a hiccup…but i can see it & understand it & am certain i can be a mom, an artist, and a whole person, all three at the same time even!

ps. this is one of the crap inkings i mentioned in my previous post. but! i do try to post all my pages whether i like how they turn out or not. tomorrow will be another one i don’t especially like…but i am working on one for the two pages after that that i really like.

stay tuned!

focus II

“focus,”
the universe whispers
to me
with promises of
clarity
(a thing
i have sought
for how long now?)
with focus
i achieve
clarity
with clarity
i will see
everything
nothing
will be hidden
i will be able to look
i will be able to see
which is maybe
why
i have chosen for so long
to embrace
distraction.

i have done so much to keep myself distracted. not meditating because “i don’t know how” or “i just can’t focus.” but what happens when i actually do try to focus?
i think i will surprise myself.

focus

focus
just
focus
sounds easy right?
except
i have designed
a life
full of
distractions…
focus
just
focus
it’s my mount everest
my moby dick
if i could only
focus
nothing could stop
me.

going off of yesterday’s post, i came to realize that i need to find this mythical focus. it’s something i have always thought was impossible…but since starting down the path, i am really surprising myself.

something different

i should try something
different
i think
this
obviously
isn’t working
i gesture to the life
around me
the chaos i am
waist deep
in
the disorder
the depression
the overwhelming
sense
of helplessness…
i should try something
different
i whisper
to myself
but for the life of me
i cannot
think
of anything else
i haven’t
already
tried.

dipping my toes in darkness…again. yesterday i was dancing…today not so much. but, you know, the dance of life, the dance we do as we try to get better–two steps forward one step back.
which means, i am always dancing.
but the music changes….

falling to earth

i’m quite a way
away
from my comfort zone
(i cannot
see
my house from here)
major tom to ground control
who
do i think
i am?
my demons have launched
a counter
attack
(they are calling it
a rescue
mission)
to tow me back
to my comfortable
confined
cubby
where nothing happens
so i have nothing
to worry
about.

more anxiety art journaling due to venturing out of my comfort zone. i think these demons might live in many households, whispering, keeping people from doing things they want to do….
i think of that scene from labyrinth where sarah is manipulated by goblins into thinking she is safely back in her room with all her favorite things instead of rescuing her baby brother.
that’s totally what it feels like.

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