balance doodle

maybe i should not go anywhere without my journal & pens. at least my energy worker/chiropractor had a set of magic markers for me to use when epiphany struck.

here’s the first page:

garden madonna

every time i go to get myself adjusted at the local energy worker/chiropractor, i have little epiphanies & find little things for me to work on inside myself.
this time it was an urge to see if my inner mother was around now that my birth mother has died. i have never been able to locate an inner mother nor to figure out how to nurture myself.
i am hoping that now i will be able to do that.
in a somewhat related note, i realized today, that all of my suicidal & self-destructive thinking stopped the day my mother died–even though i did not know she was dead.
huh….

circles

the free store i started is a month old now. it is packed full of goodies. so many awesome people donating.

i have only noticed one problem.
all the accolades i have been receiving have triggered my impostor syndrome & sent me into some serious dark & downward spirals.
weird, right?
like when people tell me i’m doing a good thing, i feel like i am somehow fooling them.
when one woman said, “way to pay it forward,” i flinched. of course, for me it is not about karma. it is about giving the people what they need; keeping crap out of landfills; putting one over on the man….
but am i a good person for doing it?
i don’t feel like a good person…
then i start to wonder…if my art took off, would i suffer in a similar way? spin out to a dark & devastated place where i fear everyone will realize i am actually a fuck up in sheep’s clothing?

however, i can’t help hoping all the spinning i have been doing will leave me standing still

itching to leave my cocoon

itching to leave my cocoon
itching to bloom
i’ve been in here too long
safe & snug
throughout my cold & dark
transformation
into a bright eruption
a moth to the moon
a bee to a flower
my purpose
awaits.

stream of consciousness verse. that’s basically how my brain works. if you ever have a conversation with me in person, it’s not too different than reading my brain outbursts here & in my art journal.
disjointed thoughts
mixed metaphors
backstories
in all the wrong places….

but i digress! i am itching to get out of my cocoon. i feel like that is what my time here at my childhood home has been. i feel like that is what my submerging myself into my art journal exploration of my dark & drippy psyche has been.
i’ve written out all the parts of my brain that i can right now. i’ve written them out to make room for new thoughts.
revolutions & epiphanies await.
just have to shake free of the rest of this
chrysalis
rise from my tomb
& go.

for a front row seat to all the amazing things i will do…just a dollar a month, y’all.https://www.patreon.com/emjemccarty

works in progress

i survived mother’s day…just barely
noticing via instagram posts
that i cringe when husbands praise wives
& when i see daughters & mothers together
but am okay with sons & mothers
…hmmm
you don’t need to look twice
to see where my damage is….
but i survived
and will live to see
another
mother’s day
& maybe not be such a
train wreck
next
time….

here are some commissions i am working on. i realize, the more i ink, what my style is exactly–& i try to stay true to it.
i am excited to see how these will turn out…& hopefully the people who commissioned them will be just as excited.

and for those of you wondering about my patreon page:


mothra’s day massacre

here’s a funny story
some years back
i noticed my ex
burying something
in the dumpster
knowing he never took out the trash
my curiosity was piqued
so i went
dumpster diving
for mother’s day…
turned out
his stalker girlfriend
had left a mother’s day bouquet
of tulips
on our doorstep for me
unlike all the weird little notes
& gifts she left for him,
he saw fit to throw the tulips
in the trash…
that might be
the only time
i got flowers for mother’s day….

okay…not funny “haha”…more like funny in a really really painful way.
mother’s day & i have a terrible track record.
with a husband who said on the first mother’s day after my giving birth to his son, “why would i get her anything; she’s not my mother?”
with a mother who didn’t seem to know the first thing about mothering…but who was always happy to complain, criticize, & be cruel….
with my own conflicted feelings on being a mom….
it’s a fucked up day for me.
yet…i caught myself buying a necklace for myself…i think it was supposed to be a surprise, for mother’s day. so maybe i am starting to heal?
maybe.
a celtic trinity knot necklace. a protection symbol. with green amber ( my favorite.)
it’s nice to know that i remembered to get me something nice for mother’s day.

the image is a card i sent to my little sister last year for mother’s day…it was the closest i could get to saying “happy mother’s day.”

mother grim

open a beer
or open a vein
whiskey shot to the head
or gunshot
you don’t know
you don’t know me
& how it feels
sometimes
to try
every day
to be a mother
to these ones
every day
every day
every
day
i make this decision
bag of wine
or bag over the head?
relish these years
when they are little
they say
kids grow up so fast
you don’t want to miss it
they say
miss it?
i am deep as fuck in it
living it
despite myself
every day

have you ever heard of “highly spirited children?” yeah. i have four of those.
they are wonderful, beautiful, brilliant, funny, explosive, screamy, dramatic little things. i love them dearly, but sometimes i find my thoughts wandering over to the dark side.
right now they are with their dad–who again–challenged our placement agreement.
whenever he does, i examine my determination to keep being their primary caretaker–to make sure i am not doing it for selfish or controlling reasons.
i discovered that even though i sometimes think i am a crap-ass mom…i completely believe it is best for our children to have me as a primary caretaker. even though i sometimes feel i am going insane with the stress of being a single mom & of raising four strong-willed children, i think i owe them that little bit of stability that being with me gives them.
i have been there for them since day one. i have a commitment to them. so, sure, sometimes i think dark thoughts, but hopefully–expressing those dark thoughts will help me work out those demons so i can be a better mom.
that’s important to me, being a good mom.
not a traditional or conventional mom, but the mom they need me to be. a crazy-ass mom who (most the time) can roll with the punches.

ps. i don’t drink box wine or else i would have known to call it box wine not bag of wine. oh well….

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