INKtober sixteenth

i don’t know
if i should
laugh
or
cry
live or die
make the best
of a
bad
situation
or…
just don’t…
my heart’s not into it
this game of
life
my heart
left
during intermission
my life is
an intermission
as the band says
should i stay
or
should i
go?

so this is completely stupid. i started watching a tv show on netflix. a mediocre tv show that reminded me of all the cop/detective shows i so so loved as a child.
the mysteries of laura…it even has a stupid name.
& yet i let it be my soothsayer.
the series begins as the lead character–a strong, intelligent, & stubborn woman, is just divorcing her adorable but cheating asshole of a husband.
the show was pretty predictable & the characters lacked depth and each episode was neatly wrapped up in 50 minutes….but i was glued to the series as i waited to see what would happen between laura & her cheating ex, jake.
he was devoted to getting her back.
she found a hot new guy.
but then dumped him when she realized she was still in love with jake.
alas.
jake proposed to someone else… (so much for devotion.)
and the second season ended…not to be renewed by nbc.

fuck a fucking duck.
my magic eightball went ka-put.
and i sobbed like a toddler who dropped her ice cream on the hot sidewalk.

so i’m kind of disgusted with myself right now.
really actually pretty much
disgusted.
and i’m probably going to cry myself to sleep again tonight.

thanks nbc.
think of that next time you decide to cancel a show.

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INKtober fifteenth

my inner world
has the most
glorious landscape
my inner world
has the most terrifying
landscape
lush & desolate
all at once
leaving me
hopeful
&
heartbroken
every minute
of every
day
i am the madman
i am also
the windmill
i am the happily ever after
i am also
the
to be
continued….

another tribute to my namesake. i borrowed heavily from this image

windmill

not only did i not do it justice…but also could i not figure out who to give credit to. i love this artwork though. it is beautiful. seeing it next to my inking though, i feel like i need to re-do mine. yikes. but as usual, it was kind of a quick sketch (done after a day of digging up sweet potatoes…so i am extra tired.)

INKtober fourteenth

today i am empty
today i am nothing
cold
raw
chapped & chafed
a
chaotic void
my
desperation wanes
however
as i accept
my own
overwhelming
fucktardery
my
ridiculousness
today i am absurd
every day i am quixotic
perhaps
that is why
i survive
despite the desolate
corners of my soul
& the shadows
that creep & chill
my heart
my hope.

shout out to cervantes & picasso for today’s ink-spiration.
so, hey…i started this poem in a dark place. but as i was writing it, i was also doing yoga. i like to multi-task, y’all. anyhoo…the yoga seemed to help dislodge some of my zen blockage as it were…and i kind of ended on a high-ish note.
kind of?
i cannot recommend yoga enough for physical, mental, & emotional health. i don’t care what your flexibility or mental state is–yoga works. this is my girl: yoga with adrienne.  i love her. she has helped me out of many a dark & painful place.

hmmm…even though i used ink brush…i’m not sure today qualifies as inktober since i did not use ink pen? unless you consider that i wrote the text in pen & do consider my text an essential part of my art??

INKtober thirteenth

i hope
i want you
for healthy reasons
i hope
i have
grown
& am ready
to embrace
the ups & downs of a grown up
relationship
i fear
i want you
for unhealthy reasons
like
you almost destroyed me
once
before
maybe you can
finish me off
this time
i suspect
i want you
due to a gypsy’s
curse
how else
could my heart
swing
so suddenly
with every ounce of energy
it has
in your
direction
from out of nowhere
i fall in love
with
the
desperation
of someone searching for
post-apocalyptic
doritos.

INKtober twelfth (beached)

i am paralyzed
no matter which way i go
i am certain
i will fuck
it
up
i am trapped
my life
a torture chamber of indecision
i want to go
i just want to take off
run away
say “fuck it”
& start all over…
but if i do
will i soon regret it?
will i always
always regret it?
i don’t want to be
alone
anymore
but i will
surely
choose
the wrong company
the wrong companion
&
i will
find
myself
missing my solitude…
there is nothing
nothing
i can do
right
i am frozen
frozen
in fear
of
being
me.

so the official inktober prompt of the day (which i am by no means required to use in order to participate in inktober) is “whale.”
while i love drawing whales & am especially fond of humpback whales…it seemed more suitable for me to beach myself.
so this is me
beached.

on a similar note–i realized today that i have no idea how to spell “12th” as a word…good thing my 12 year old knew…(wait–i think i see a pattern)

& i am going through a rough patch. i find myself thinking i should quit the homestead adventure…or, at least, curtail it…. i also want to quit illinois & head back north/northwest (not in a hitchcock way.)
but all this is waaaaaaaaaaay easier said than done when one is broke but with a yard full of livestock living rent-free.
also
i want to be closer to my ex-husband…in more ways than one…& history shows that to be a bad idea…but i am notoriously bad about history.
both of these things are weighing heavily on me. resulting in mental exhaustion & severe bouts of crying as i question every motive i have and every bad decision i have ever made.
it super sucks.
i’m not sure i want to be me right now. i feel like i’m just a complete fuck up waiting for my next fuck up.

INKtober eleventh

have i always
been a
mess
have i never
been not
falling apart?
a puzzle
missing vital pieces
a pot
boiled over
gnashing teeth
weeping eyes
disconnected
frustrated
losing my mind
just
wanting to
scream
scream
scream until
my throat
is raw
that is how i
measure
my
failure
my every day
fall
from
grace.

 

INKtober tenth

sometimes
i feel like
no matter how hard
i try to be
a good person
try to do things
right
no matter what
i am doomed
to failure
&
i’m really trying
that’s the thing
being a good
person
is important
to me
so these
suspicions
that i am
fucking
it
all
up
anyway
are especially
devastating.

it was suggested by a beloved follower that my self-portraits could maybe smile. i couldn’t think up a smart ass response…so i drew one.

i used to smile constantly. i have extreme social anxiety & smiling was my way of satisfying the hordes that could not understand how terrified i was of small talk & social interactions. plus, being a girl in this culture, i was told to “smile” every time i did not smile. so i was one big explosion of smiles.
i remember one snarky girl at a party i was at when i was in my early 20s–i happened to be dating the guy she desired…but did not know that at the time–saying loudly, “does she do anything other than smile?”

death, single motherhood, betrayal, & heartache seriously dampened my smile. i sometimes find it extremely difficult to smile, in fact. sometimes smiling makes me cry.

but sometimes an authentic smile burbles up.
sometimes.

meanwhile. this is me. this is the smile i can muster without crying, too much.

constructive criticisms from a soon-to-be five year old who was watching over my shoulder as i drew this…
“you look nothing like her.”
“you’re not even trying.”