coming soon!

tara over at raw earth ink sent me a sample of things to come for my next publication
the invisible exhibitionist!
so exciting!
for you who weren’t with me from 2017 through 2019, i was obsessively inking self-portraits & vomiting free verse in an attempt to root out the damage that kept me broken.
i wrote about everything & anything that went through my head or that i felt inside me.
i exorcised as many demons as i could find
& ended up making friends with a few of them.
i did almost 500 pages of self-portraits.
during 2020, i hung up a show at a local art spot & more than one person told me it should be a book.
so!
it’s going to be a book.
every time i read what i wrote back then, it makes me cry all over again. i was a raw as i could be.
and i share that rawness in hopes that someone who needs to see it will. in hopes that i can help at least one person not feel alone.
i am looking forward to seeing it all together in one book.

song sung blue

these pieces are from a year ago
many art journal pages
lamenting my lonely heart
yet i somehow survived
& i will keep on
keeping on
from one valentine’s day
to the next.

up top: “song sung blue”
bottom left: “chances”
bottom right: “fear of success”

9X12 inking on watercolor paper
$45 plus $5 for shipping & handling

a fool’s game

i’m already ready
to jump
it would be a bad idea
to push me
don’t bet on me
the odds are
astronomical
i’m already ready
to run
don’t open any doors
i live comfortably with one foot
out
already
faith in me
is a fool’s
game.

art journal pages as i try to determine what stays in my hot air balloon & what to chuck out so i don’t crash. yesterday i was a ship…today i am blowing in the wind. fragile and full of hot air.
i can’t guess–day to day–what is going to happen in my head.
i’m okay with that…but how can i expect someone else to be?

up & down

in order to not lose myself
in the needs of others
i have to prioritize…
being the captain of my ship
i have to prioritize
my ship
& crew
& me
the captain
if i want to weather the storms
that blow through
if someone who is not
me
or mine
needs attention…
well
there are times
stormy times
when i just can’t give it
&
i refuse to apologize
for that.

something i am working through. that up & down of trying to have a social life without compromising my home life & inner life.
it’s a balancing act
and sometimes i just have to shut my door & put up the sign reading, “go away; mental health break in progress”
on the bright side, i get a lot more art done when i’m in my hidey hole!

up top: “heart song”
bottom left: “less than amazing”
bottom center: “lost”
bottom right: “my funny valentine”

9X12 inkings on watercolor paper…$45 each

i am wolf

some days i could conquer the world
howl at the moon
take no prisoners
other days i feel caught in a trap
unable to move forward
angry at myself for moving
backwards.

the other night i listened to the coyotes scream from my side porch. last night it snowed and blanketed my valley community.
looking out my window at the natural world that surrounds me is enough to keep me going even when i feel like i cannot possibly make it through another day.
and if i can actually get out of my house to be amidst the natural world…then i can ground myself & clear away all the poison that builds up in my soul.

“i am wolf. hear me howl.” ink on watercolor paper 9X12. $45

character

i don’t like feeling
i am a character
in a story
i did not write.

i prefer my own narration. in my narration i am a total rockstar…. but then there are those days where the narrative is that i am a fucktard with body image issues & a complete lack of faith in myself. the person that will die alone. disillusioned.
i don’t want to be that character.
i want to be the rockstar….

related? unrelated? i had a dream recently that seemed to go on all night long. it started as a standard slasher movie dream where the slasher was terrorizing the general public & dismembering pretty much everyone.
i was running for my life, terrified.
but by the end of the dream, i was having a conversation with the slasher. he was no longer a slasher, just some guy not killing everyone in sight.
and i was no longer terrified.
i am thinking it is as simple as this: face your fears…they might not be that scary.
right?

does that mean i have to start promoting myself?
i guess we will see….

deal with it

my mom drew him aside
to say
“it’s not your fault…
she is difficult to live with.”
as much as it hurt
i can not deny
i am
difficult
to live with…
i am
so
what now
do i give up
or hope
for someone
who can deal with me?

better than just deal with me though–celebrate me. someone who enjoys the ride my crazy can offer. because there are good parts to it. really good parts.
but also some annoying crap.
but who doesn’t have annoying crap?
yes, i am difficult to live with. but i can also be a delight to live with.
it’s true.

promise me

sometimes
i can see my future
like a lightening
in my heart
easier
to breathe
easier
to believe
a warm hearth
on a cold morning
a promise
of a blue sky.

while digging up beds to plant seeds for spring flowers & herbs, i stopped and counted my blessings. i love my madness manor, incomplete but full of promise. i feel so fortunate that we found each other. not everyone has a home. and i have spent a lifetime searching for mine. how is it i can wake up one day & realize i have the home i have been looking for? the family i have been looking for?
it all seems incredible to me.

repulsion

i am an experiment
in denial
if i deny all my desires
turn them away
like peter at the gate
pretend i do not know them
do not want
do not need
if i deny everything
i desire
will they come for me
anyway
my desires
attracted by my
repulsion.

this is my thought when i think about trying to market myself. whether it be my art or my writing or my new idea to put myself out there as a homesteading pet sitter…. i cannot bring myself to do anything past making a wish & rubbing my money toad.
seriously.
it’s like i’m hiding away daring the world to find me, but not leaving any clues as to where i might be found.
who does that?

poisonous

my words are poison
& as much as i would love
to spit them at you
you will not understand my pain
you will not wither
& die
you will use my poison against me
you will use my poison to make your own
my thoughts are poison
but where can i put them
what can i do with this pain
how can i get it out of me
can i use my destructive urges as compost
to grow something beautiful & beneficial
can i find my meaning somewhere else
find my salvation somewhere else
grow without cutting everyone down
i have four children
but i am not a mother
how can i be
with all of this poison in me
i have to
have to find my meaning elsewhere
find my salvation elsewhere.

this is directed at my ex. i often find myself wanting to make him hurt the way he has hurt me…but i know from experience that that will not work & i will just end up hurting myself even more.
i was in a lot of pain for the birthdays of my oldest & youngest (one day after another) as my soul remembered the different pains of the experience of becoming a mother for the first time with an unreliable partner…& for the last time with that same partner.
the pain did lift…but it was intense while it lasted.
this incoherent vomiting of verse was my attempt to make sense of what i was feeling.

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