today on my patron page i share two art journal pages & my recent brush with misanthropy & theories with how isolation feeds a dark part of one’s soul.
i’m staring out the window of a bus a bus parked forever more in the hills of western wisconsin clouds, forests, wildflowers, birds, & bugs (so many bugs) are right outside my window & all i feel is paralyzed trapped unable to move forward because renting requires income getting a loan requires income & i am on a bus with four kids my ex-husband trying to lure me back to him back to life in an apartment with him & each day i think a little more seriously about committing that crime about sacrificing myself to make sure my kids have a roof over their heads…. i just wish i could look at this amazing view & feel free & feel inspired & feel hopeful instead of feeling doomed but right now i have no idea how to be that person how to be anything but miserable & alone.
though i am not posting as much as i usually do as i am struggling with depression right now as well as the instability of being homeless–er, between homes, rather…. but i will try to get pen to paper & get some new posts up over there soon.
surviving myself may be the best trick i have ever done now you see me now you still see me i’m still here manacles straight jacket cement shoes submerged in a tank full of every tear i have ever cried & i climbed back out i survived.
my heart shrieks for you like a falcon on the hunt echoing back it sounds like a harpy call so desperate lonely & bitter i cry to the sound of my heart shrieking & wonder who could ever ever be lulled by the sound of it.
there is a struggle happening in my heart as i try to find that ever elusive balance between light & dark…hope & despair.
as i contemplate my impending search for a new home for my minions & me & the money involved, i think again, how nice it would be if you would be my patron….
i post almost daily over there & you can read those posts for just a dollar a month. for five dollars a month, you get all my posts, & i send you a handmade birthday card. for ten dollars a month, you get all my posts, & i send you two cards annually. for twenty-five dollars a month, you get to read all my posts, you get two cards, and a commissioned 8X10 inking.
alone who can i blame but me alone my screams fall on my own ears alone i look at my reflection really look this time not me reflected in someone else’s eyes but me standing before myself will i hold myself up or push me down?
i’m thinking of changing my look. i think i could pull off some faux fur. and maybe martinis might be in order. i have been sober many days now…it is not pretty.
i am going through some stuff. what? no? not you! yes, but different stuff. like my usual stuff is sorted & put away, and now i am on to new stuff. i feel like i am trying to wriggle out of an old skin…but i am struggling to get that fucker off my back. lots of anger & snarky behavior…which then causes a spiral of guilt & oh-my-god-i-suckness. fun fun fun.
i wish i knew how many layers this onion has…how many more levels i have to do before i win.
this is a card i’m sending to my sister for her birthday (shhh)
i pull on my depression like an off-white cable-knit sweater thick & heavy like an irish fisherman would wear & i pretend it looks good on me it’s comfortable at least my depression well-worn though it is getting a bit ripe from being worn so long i snuggle deep into my depression fantasizing i can stay there deeply mired & barely aware of the daily struggles that knit me such a snug sadness.
originally posted on august 29, 2018…i really liked this one & thought it might look good with bamboo pen for the invisible exhibitionist…& i do like the way it looks, but i imagined doing it with a small head being enveloped by the sweater…. however, as usual, my head got away from me. i might try doing another version–as i love this image & verse so much–but i did like this version enough to post it here.
my mood lately, i wish for that sweater…it’s more like uncomfortable underwear mood right now. something isn’t fitting right, but it’s too much trouble to change my clothes…that’s my mood. maybe i’ll do a page on that.
it was the early nineties when i had the dream. i had been in therapy for awhile terrified of the dark & miserably unhappy but one day it lifted and like a light switch i was happy & no longer afraid–of anything it was around this time i had the dream was it before? was it after? are the two things related at all?
the dream was disturbing a crazy-ass dream where i was a mighty warrior a tiger and other clans would send warriors to fight me i would mercilessly slaughter them sometimes though the other clans would send me young girls to be with as a way of collecting my seed….
fucked up, right? that’s a fucked up dream for a 21 year old girl in iowa. i have been thinking about it a lot lately. wondering if the dream & my becoming happy & brave, have anything to do with each other. a past life remembering healing a present life hurting.
in the dream, i was represented as a tiger–but i was human. recently, googling like crazy, all i have been able to figure out is that tiger is representative of warriors and the such in china. so i started reading up on china’s history to see if i can figure out anything about this dream…but i find myself more drawn to the mongols, of course.
i keep looking to so-called professionals & friends, but as usual, no one ever answers my emails. so i guess i’m on my own. my own master the answer to my own question.
as well as the very first postcard being sent out to a patron!!
oh! & all of these illustrations remind me that today is the spring equinox balance between day & night…balance between light & dark…balance between rest & change. wake up, it’s time to grow happy ostara!
in the spring of 2016 i lived in manitowoc wisconsin i had begun volunteering at a community garden working with farm to school & helping to launch a cooperative grocery things i had wanted to do most my adult life i was doing them joining a community on the icy shores of lake michigan
circumstances changed my landlord decided she needed more space my ex decided we should try again my parents moved away and i had a free place to stay who doesn’t want a free place to stay but as we all know nothing is free
i’m trapped in illinois isolated no community no urban scene any where near for gardening & creating green spaces i am stranded right in the middle of a giant fucking green space (turns yellow though when the corn has tassles)
i want to ghost illinois move to a town large or small but a town that needs someone like me a town that wants someone like me a town that loves someone like me a town maybe in iowa?
throwing a dart at at map. what about decorah iowa? it has nice assonance. i do enjoy a good ass..onance. i don’t know. any thoughts? anyone? i have to stay within kid-swapping distance of their dad in southern wisconsin…but i don’t want to be too close. plus people in wisconsin do not like me very much. i used to live in iowa city. for the first four years of my adulthood i lived in iowa city. and i did love it. i ended up ghosting it because i was 22 & the world beckoned & my therapist wanted me to stop dating & focus on healing…so i skipped town & moved to illinois (briefly) & binged on boys before beginning a state-hopping escapade, full of boys. but that is another story. i liked iowa city. and i like the idea of going back to school & being close to friends…but i also like the idea of finding a small community in a picturesque setting. hmmmm?
i’m hoping to be out of here by my birthday (july 12–mark your calendars!) as both a big happy birthday to me and as a fuck you to my folks who are headed back up here to wrap up loose ends. i know, really mature…but you should meet my parents before judging my desire to avoid them at any cost. plus my kids are still traumatized from their last interaction with my parents. (never ever ever should have moved back here…but that is a lesson learned)
he says i never told him why when actually he just never never listened to all the times & all the ways i did tell him
i have always been an open book that no one wants to read i make the words louder the pictures brighter only to have my cover snapped shut that much quicker
i try so so hard to be seen to be heard fearing the attraction i have never gotten but craving that validation so badly so fucking badly
this was originally posted in may of 2018. i re-did the illustration. now it is another finished piece for my the invisible exhibitionist project. it was based on an egon schiele painting.
