treasure hunting

so it turns out that if you spend thirty-six years writing without locating a publisher who will publish you & then just saying “fuck it” and squirreling all your writings away, you create a bit of a situation. 
i just went through some actual folders (not virtual ones) to find these gems from the early 90s when i was still using a typewriter because, fuck it, i am….(wait, what’s the opposite of cutting-edge?)
retro?
archaic? 
luddititious?
a dinosaur?
(if i am a dinosaur i want to be a velociraptor.)
wait–you know what–i am going to circle back & say i am cutting edge. i was years ahead of the hipster typewriter trend. i am a goddamned trendsetter. 

typewriters are cool.

so, in addition to my working on creating a book from select pages of my art journal self-portrait series, i am also working on putting together a collection of short stories. 
short stories that i wrote, and then left to age.
i think they are well-aged at this point, and ready for harvest.
or bottling? 
how would that metaphor work?

as you can see from this incoherent post, i am using all of my brain power for editing short stories & art journals while juggling four screaming minions. 

meanwhile…i am almost almost so close to being done with the postcard commission & the portrait commission.
so close!

moses jones…homicidal mama

in march i re-started the third episode of moses jones: apocalyptic mama with this page. before that i had gotten several pages into a third episode only to realize i didn’t like the direction & wanted to change it…. plus my real life relationship went from trying to work it out again–to finally giving up on it for good.

so i killed off dusty rather than reuniting with him as i had started to….

mjp41

plus i wanted to rework the artwork a bit & return to some of the more edgy art i had used for the mojo prototypes.

mjversus

i wrote three pages of the new episode…then petered out in the spring of this year. but all of a sudden, as i am laying in bed trying to fall asleep, i have started writing new pages in my head. i know what is going to happen now! yay! but the problem with comics is…it takes for fucking ever to get from point a to point b. you know, layout, blue pencil, rough drafts, and 17 pages just to express one idea. and if you are a luddite like me–doing the whole thing with pen & brush on paper rather than using a computer program…eternity.

but!
i have started writing the script & it is just flowing out of me.
so…here’s a little of what is going to happen next.
(if you are interested & want to know what is going on, i have two pages on this site dedicated to moses jones. i am not sure about the artwork…but you can at least catch up on the plot so far.)

moses jones…episode three…homicidal mama

moses & the minions come out of the woods and over a rise to see the house ahead of them.
moses stops.
the minions stop around her.
moses: something is wrong
they are all quiet & still
fidgit: i hear a baby crying
moses picks up misha & breaks into a run.

moses: what happened?
susan: lucy…she’s–
malcolm: where were you? why weren’t you here? you should have been here!
moses: where’s lucy?
malcolm: she’s dead! you weren’t here. we needed you. but fucking moses jones has to do what moses jones has to do. fuck what everyone else needs.
moses: what happened? where is she?
malcolm: do i look like a doctor? she died. she had a baby & it killed her.
susan: (whispers)
there was so much blood.
malcolm: shut the fuck up, susan.
moses: what about the baby? is the baby okay?
malcolm: fuck the baby!
moses: can i see lucy? can i see the baby?
malcolm: no! (stalks off)
moses: (to susan) has he let anyone see her?
susan: cheetah is in there. he is cleaning her up.
moses: where’s the baby?
susan: (shrugs) maybe with one of the others? oh! i think amanda has it.
moses: who’s amanda?
susan: some girl that dusty brought here while you were gone. she stayed here when he went looking for you. did he find you?
moses: (without hesitation) no.
susan: so he’s still out there?
moses: i don’t know. so where’s this girl then? wait–was dusty supposed to let me know lucy was in trouble? was he supposed to find me to get me back here?
susan: um…i think…i think her labor had started…i don’t think he knew that was a problem? he showed up right after you left. him & that girl. i don’t remember for sure what was next. he went to get you though. you didn’t see him out there?
moses: no. so what happened? what went wrong?
susan: she was in all kind of pain. she said something was wrong. she knew something was wrong. she collapsed. then she had the baby. then she started bleeding & wouldn’t stop. there was nothing we could do. i don’t know why malcolm blames you. i don’t know what you could have done.
moses: he’s in pain. he needs to blame someone. maybe it is my fault.
susan: there’s nothing you could have done.
moses: you don’t know that. if i had gotten back in time–

so there it is. my work in progress. now i have to finish writing script & start thinking about layout.
i will probably skip the blue pencil…y’all should know how much i love my mistakes.

a blank page

so much hope
so much possibility
but how smudged
it gets
as it sits & waits
for its purpose

ugg. i forgot how annoying it is to have to put panels on a page. i need to re-think this. sure, there is probably a program or something for doing this digitally that takes like two seconds, but i am a chisel & hammer type of gal, y’all. i am a luddite. i like my pen in hand and the possibility (probability) of human error.

but!

i have it paneled. the first page of emperor ming:  one chicken’s dance with destiny

ha! i just came up with that. but it’s catchy, yes?

so the goats have figured out how to just walk right out & over the fence that is supposed to be electrified but is not yet electrified and i am left in annoyed awe of their intelligence.
agatha & quixote met me at the back door to say “hi!” before i escorted them back to their pasture–again.
agatha has also started jumping the fence to go in the pasture with luke (the ram) and buttercup (a pregnant ewe.) then luke starts chasing her (to fight or fuck??) and agatha gets pissed off & rears up into that intimidating goat attack pose before lowering her head to very lightly butt heads with him.
ruminants are weird.
but so lovable.

and whoever had money on my not being able to keep from stalking over to okcupid to look at profiles & answer questions–you won!
i found my first trumpette match. scary scary. i know there are trump supporters in theory…but in reality it is so so so disconcerting. this guy was spooky too. and of course, physically attractive. dammit. couldn’t white supremacist fucktards all be just as unattractive on the outside as they are on the inside?  that would simplify things.
most guys i am matched with have a notation that they will not date trump supporters. that is the world we live in now. politics have merged with dating.
also, i put some of my art on my profile…good idea or bad idea? they’re going to find out i am crazy sooner or later. may as well do it with art, i figure.

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