this is page two of my experimental tell-all art journal memoir.
i can’t tell if i like it or not.
it’s a good story. i would like to explore telling this story.
i’m just not sure that this is the way i want to tell it.
(here’s page one)
so keep on playing around with it…see what happens.
i have gotten an underwhelming amount of stuff done while my minions are gone. unless you are impressed by how many netflix shows i have binge-watched?
last night i spent between 4 and 5 hours cutting up my lambs and getting them into the freezer. i am not good at cutting meat. poor things have been butchered twice now. but it’s done!
now i need to see if i can figure out how to clean & tan a hide.
another thing i am procrastinating.
perfect weather…but i have not tapped my trees.
i’m feeling a bit useless.
so much art to do. so much homesteading.
and i just want to have a beer & watch jessica jones and mope about unrequited love while ogling david tennant.
whether there is a reason or not
whether you like it or not
i started this picture a couple of days ago
it started out as yet another self-portrait…but i kinda morphed into some stephen tyler androgynous fairy person. then i didn’t know what to do about the background. if i had finished it that day, it would have been a completely different picture.
if i had finished it yesterday,
it would have been a completely different picture.
this is my day, today. my fairy heart is being devoured by the cat of angst.
so i was given a printer by a friend. and i used it instead of the camera i usually use to capture my art…but i am not sure what the fuck i did wrong. this looks weird to me…& fuck ups that i can’t see with my eye are showing up.
maybe i did the settings wrong?
maybe i will get this figured out?
or maybe it will just stay like this for now?
i guess we will find out.
*i did fix it…so if you are all, “wow, that does look like crap”…no, that’s just my art*
but do know this.
& i wonder how many times
in how many ways
i can say
the same thing
& not be heard?
of my invisibility
i want out
i. want. out.
can you hear
get me out
my own head
want to leave.
i think maybe this project has reached a conclusion…or maybe it will go on forever.
maybe i will go on forever
comforting myself with my own suffocating sadness
or maybe i will start an illustrated memoir.
i should really start an illustrated memoir.
so…i need an agent & a cheerleader.
someone who can tolerate large doses of bitter animosity & self-pity.
also, must enjoy loud children.
i am not a poet
these are not poems
it is just
that i have spilled
all over the page
vomited my emotions
with pen & brush.
this was my yesterday epiphany–expanded upon.
i took a photo before i used my brush on it, because i wasn’t sure if i liked it better without shading & color.
but i think the color worked okay.
good news! i have been very angst-y & especially reflective with all the trauma i keep vomiting on myself. so that means i have 4 pages written in my journal that just need illustrating.
so we all have that to look forward to.
which is how i feel…invisible.
if i’m on social media for the sake of my art…and i get extremely very little feedback on said art…then why am i on social media when it just seems to contribute to my depression & anxiety?
after taking this picture, i looked up about how messy desks are a sign of genius. i mean, wow. look how smart i am.
i am enjoying this project. it allows me to experiment.
and being–once again–optimistic about my art, i spent money i didn’t have on more art supplies.
but, in my defense…art supplies!
i don’t buy shoes, clothes, or technology.
but i do splurge on art supplies
seeds & plants
i think i have my priorities straight.
two new pages…and then i had to do another version of this page:
for a laundry list of reasons that i put already in another blog.
and i like the new version better. i do. but i wish i could stop hating my work. i try really really hard to look at it like someone would who isn’t noticing every little mistake. i try to look at it like i would if it weren’t mine.
that’s the trick, isn’t it?
this has been a difficult project for me for that reason. knowing that it is for someone else and that i can’t just squirrel it away and say, “well nevermind” is difficult for me. if it is a picture only the artist can love–fine. but since i am going to be putting this out in the world, i have that added vulnerability of knowing someone else is going to be looking at it–judging it.
moses jones once received a review from some comic blog. it was not a good review. but i was able to brush it off because i didn’t care what the review said and moses is my baby so who cares what other people think?
do i sometimes care what other people think?
no. i really really don’t.
i mean, i want people to like it…but if they don’t, it’s no big deal.
just like i want people to like me
but i really don’t care what people think of me.
however, i’m still aware of what people might be thinking….
i mean, i don’t live in a vacuum
no matter how hard my shell is
or how tall my walls are
criticism still hurts…
and compliments still confuse me….
my mom liked to tell me, “no man is an island.”
and i would answer her that i was a peninsula.