i mixed the wax
melted it fast
yellow for communication
(i just wanted to hear his voice)
blue for protection
(i’m not sure this is a good idea)
red for love
(maybe i should have skipped the red?)
& white for purity
in my intentions
(i just wanted to hear his voice)
in the end though
is a muddy color
an earth color
“same as my heart,” i think
as i cast my spell
i dip the wick
& dip it again
the needle intertwined within
& the candle that forms
from the muddy wax
looks like a potato
a sad potato
“same as my love,” i think
as i cast
i keep showing up naked in these self-portraits. dude. i am rarely nude in real life. maybe my inner me would rather be naked?
but here i am.
lumpy & nude again.
& seriously, valentine’s day is the worst for me.
all i can do is remember my best…& my most terrible valentine’s day–just a year apart, with the same person.
a million years ago.
the best was when we went and got our matching ear piercings and flew balsa wood planes in the park.
the worst was when he gave me a pair of white doc martin wingtips that i had so so so desired…and i realized he was leaving me.
men always give me the good stuff
when there is something dark
in their heart.
something about me is off
my magic is askew
i was ignored by a librarian
& rebuffed by a mechanic
strangers are strangely nice to me
yesterday…not so much
yesterday i forgot & left the lid
off of one of my temperamental pens
so intent i was on doing battle against
& my pen dried out
& my other pen wouldn’t work
& i felt as if my hands were cut off
yesterday i kept trying to continue a conversation
that i don’t know why i’m having it
but i keep trying to connect
where maybe there is no connection
maybe i am a solitary
& maybe i mess it up
by fighting it
by always fighting
my life & ways….
i recently ordered a new copy of everyday magic & gave my old copy to my son. i ordered a used copy of it and when it arrived there were post-it notes marking all of the love spells. it’s weird. you would think that whoever brought in the used books would have removed all of these post-its. they are sticking out of the book all over the place…. i felt sad for the previous owner of the book. so desperate to find love…and apparently she gave up.
then i started to wonder. maybe the post-its are for me? maybe i was sent a book full of love spells for a reason? maybe i am doing this all wrong? my life….
i feel like i am doing everything all wrong lately.
trying to online date. exposing myself to the callousness of strangers. making myself too too too vulnerable.
trying to connect with people on facebook (yes, i am back on facebook because i am trying to promote mistress of mud–a lovely lovely book i illustrated)
however, i joined a women homesteaders group recently on facebook. because, well, i’m a woman. i homestead. i am desperate for community. and then i’m over-connecting. it’s weird. this fine line for me. wanting to connect…but not wanting so much exposure. wanting to be noticed while i stay safely invisible.
commenting & posting, i feel over-connected.
and i start to wonder if i should just say “fuck it” & get off of this over-connected mass of loneliness we call the internet. live in real time.
(but here i am…blogging about it instead)
and i was contacted by a guy on okcupid. it went against two of my rules for me to contact him back. his profile picture (& only one) was of him shirtless in bed. my “eww” rule. also, he had barely written anything on his profile & he had only answered the minimum of match questions. so i couldn’t do my “deal breaker” look-see in his match questions. like guys who don’t believe in evolution…or racist/sexist guys…or anti-feminism guys. that sort of thing. oh! guys who think you should never be comfortable farting around each other. what the what?
so i broke my rules to contact him back. why? he’s a redhead. something in the way he looks in what may or may not be his real profile picture.
so i message him to see what he wants.
he says he would “love” a conversation.
so i try to start one…& he won’t let me. every time i try to start a conversation, he responds in the bare minimum of words possible.
i think he might be an alien.
so that up thar is a picture of my first black lamb with her daddy. i always wanted a black lamb. ever since i was a little girl named “mary.”
here is her twin with his mama.
lambs are so cute.
i look at them & think, “how am i supposed to eat you?”
like i’m the big bad wolf.
so i need to figure out what is askew in my energy. too much alcohol while the minions are away? over-exposing my solitary witchy ways to the world at large via internet? still not being able to embrace chaos though i have cats & kids & goats eager to be my companions on that path? running away from myself?
am i running away from myself?
who am i?
who am i?
what do i want?
fuck a duck.