*this is a work in progress
for anyone who wasn’t with me for my whimsical ink stain adventure (all of them are on one of the pages up there) that started with inktober 2016 when i discovered my love for making inkstains and finding pictures in them,
this is what the process looks like.
i make an ink stain, dripping ink randomly on wet watercolor paper.
i let it dry.
then i just stare at it.
for as long as necessary.
and it helps me to expand on my drawing style and discover new creatures.
i haven’t done it in awhile…not since last inktober when i started the month of ink…but then pooped out.
however, i was thinking
of writing another letter to seymour
and i started this inkstain as a page on which to write crazy broken poetry about love
i keep asking the universe for a sign that i should either keep up my pilgrimage…or give up on it.
i mean, i guess you could say that seymour’s ignoring of my ongoing expressions of devotion is a sign in itself.
but i would really like something more definite…if that’s not too much to ask.
*i like to post the process of these pictures because it is interesting to me how they develop.
he was my muse
my favorite thing to draw
the only face
i wanted to see
he was my burden
the thing i ran away from
every other day
he was my savior
the only one who ever believed in me
he was my daily reminder
that one day i would lose
everything that ever mattered
i only wanted him
after i had thrown him away
i only let myself love him
after i had lost him.
i don’t know what year this journal entry was from…maybe 1994? 1995? the poem(ish) is from today because every song is reminding me of him…again.
i started working on a memoir over on tumblr (link is on the right hand side there… “meet me in the sunroom”)
i am writing it on tumblr because, frankly, i fit in better with the hopeless romantics over there…the open hearts & injured souls. i get more of a response over on tumblr than i do here. i mean, i totally appreciate y’all who do read me, but there just aren’t very many of you.
so i will keep this as my “website” for business (if that ever happens) purposes…but i might start doing my ranting over on tumblr.
i am trying to decide if i should delete my blog & just keep my artwork up? we’ll see.
anyhoo. in more efforts to exorcise demons, talk to ghosts, and figure myself out, i have started a memoir about seymour and myself. i used a stock photo of matt dillon to do this quick portrait. it doesn’t look like either one of them…but it does what i need it to do.
that’s all for now.
you were in my dreams last night
all of them
sweet dreams where i laid my head
on your chest
that i would always feel that way
as i stared
into your warm brown eyes
hoping that you would always
how am i supposed to live like this
how am i supposed to embrace
of a life
you are the ghost that haunts me
the haunting that leaves me
repenting my sins
you filled my dreams
i just want
to go back to sleep.
i will gladly
spend my days
chaste as a monk
letting my passion
onto a page
if it means
you will come to me
if you will fill my dreams
remember that movie? truly madly deeply…with alan rickman? if you haven’t seen it, do. it’s a totally amazing, funny & sweet movie.
that’s me. living my love affair with a ghost and avoiding real life.
except my ghost isn’t dead…he lives in philadelphia and resists all my efforts to woo the fuck right out of him.
between him…i am going to go ahead & call him “seymour” because that is his name in my confusion perfume comic…go ahead & go read that if you haven’t already…between seymour & dusty…i feel like i am ruined for relationships. seymour because no one can live up to what he is to me, & dusty because i am afraid everyone will live up to what he is to me.
being that i have always been better at fictional relationships anyway (i used to date the young paul newman as well as the living james dean when i was in my twenties,) i am just going to go ahead and have a fictional relationship with the man who left me 22 years ago.
before last weekend & dusty’s visit, i did my tarot cards. my card (the card representing me) was skill & it was crossed with/conflicted by physical pleasure. in short, i need to focus on creative efforts, my art & writings as well as my family & homestead…but i am distracted by my own loneliness.
so i made this deal with my subconscious, if it lets seymour visit me in my dreams at night, i will focus & hone my creativity by day.
so far so good.
i mean, in my dreams, i am trying to absorb every bit of what i feel being with him so i can keep it with me always…& when i wake, the dreams bring a certain amount of comfort…but they also fill me with a sad longing….
but that’s good for art, right?
i’ve been thinking a lot about “letting go.”
i let go of you the minute i saw you behind the bar cleaning your brand new belly button piercing. you were gorgeous.
it wasn’t even a conscious thought. it was a reflex. perfect people don’t want me. i’m damaged. i’m trouble. i’m too much work & not pretty enough for it.
so i didn’t give you a second thought. a neurotic thought. instead i just talked to you. acted as if i had nothing to lose. because i had nothing to lose. a girl like me would never get a chance to lose a boy like you.
so i let go. i never thought–ever–of you as someone who could fall in love with me…so i never fell in love with you.
we became friends.
& you were the best of friends.
god you were so much fun.
& then you fell for me.
why? why did you fall for me? why me? when you are perfect & beautiful & not damaged…why would you fall for someone like me?
i am none of those things.
& i had already let you go because it doesn’t make any sense.
any sense at all.
that someone like you would fall for someone like me.
we liked to say
that we were bigger than the beatles.
& when things were good
i believed we were unstoppable
but that damaged part of me
that damaged part
was just waiting for the day you would leave me
one way or another
i knew that day would come
so i kept letting go
over & over & over
hurting both of us in the process….
after i lost you
i kept letting go. over & over i “let go” of you.
over & over.
i never let go of you at all
& i never will.
i thought loving you made me weak
i have never been
update…i found a drawing i did of this photograph–done from the photograph–back in a journal from 1995/96. so i remembered the photograph slightly wrong.
but my sentiment still stands.
but here’s the thing
the only one
the only one
i still love
the only one.
i flush away
without a second thought
if i look in my heart
you are always
my drawing style is kind of bugging me right now.
i feel like my ocd figures in too much
i want to be looser…hmmm
as picasso said, “It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.”
i have no interest in painting like raphael, but i would love to be able to be more childlike in my art.
yesterday a drawing done by my friend usama alshaibi inspired me (after making me jealous) to play around with my style.
i also leafed through my journal and saw that not all of my drawings bug the fuck out of me. some of them i would even call good. but i think it is still good to play with style & to keep evolving my art….
before i got annoyed with my style, i was working on a new comic story. instead of paneling a page ahead of time, i am now just paneling as i go. it is more fun & much easier. however, now i am not sure i want to use this style of drawing for the story. so progress is paused….