seriously

it’s really difficult
for me
when people take me
seriously
because
i guess
then i have to
take myself
seriously?
it’s hard
to goof off
when people
are counting on
you.

this is a big problem for me. i don’t take myself seriously…then when someone else does, i am thrown for a loop. i start wondering…should i be taking myself more seriously? why don’t i take myself seriously?
i guess as a kid
i learned it was easier to laugh–to make a joke–then to feel the feelings that hurt.
taking myself seriously requires my getting past the painful part first…& i’m not always prepared to do that. it’s just easier to laugh & dismiss myself as a joke….
(even though that also hurts)

smother me

i keep catching myself
trying to
smother me
in worries
in
things that have
to be done
now!
or else!
or else what?
i sometimes
think to ask
&
the voices
sputter out
take a step back
to plan
a new attack.

slow & steady wins the race, right? i am making myself purposely move slowly. trying to think more slowly. i was freaking out about the lawn at my new house. i use a reel mower (or as i call it, an amish mower) & the lawn was getting longer & longer.
so i asked my friend to borrow her mower. and for some reason i had to do it that day. even though if i had stopped to think, i did not have time to mow. plus i was running late for an appointment. but i ignored the voices telling me not to worry about the mower & went to get the mower anyway.
and i threw out my back lifting the mower.
and then decided i shouldn’t use it anyway.
so i took my reel mower out to amish land to have the blades sharpened. as well as getting my scythe & other lawn tools sharpened.
then, a week later, i told my boys i would pay them to mow the lawn.
sure the lawn looks like it was a victim of a slasher movie…but i am honoring my desire to live a low-impact life, giving my boys work experience as well as life experience, and taking my time instead of getting it all done now!now!now!
and my back feels much better.

(i borrowed from gustave dore again for inspiration for the inking)

outside the box

i live
outside the box
yet still find myself
listening to the voices
shouting out
at me
from that fucking box
still find myself
projecting that box shape
onto my own life
only to berate myself
for coloring outside the lines
scribbling outside the lines
creating whole worlds
outside the lines
i could cut off my arms
cut off my legs
remove my head
& i still wouldn’t fit
inside the box
& why
why why why
would i want to stuff myself
inside
knowing i would die
kept in a box
i live
outside the box
& that
is the perfect fit
for me.

every day of my life tends to be a reminder to me that i don’t fit in. most days i am totally fine with that–some days anyway. even as a kid i wasn’t all that interested in fitting in. and the older i get, the more i realize just how non-non-conforming i am. how unconventional i am. never doing what everyone else is doing. with my flip phone, no internet, unschooling, buy-nothing-new, free store mentality….
people assume i am going to do what everyone does when they are fixing up a house. but i’m not. i’m going to be me…& that house will be an extension of me. of me & my minions.
it will be complete madness
in the best way possible.

(speaking of which, i am looking for foraged/salvaged materials & ideas for sustainable renovations. so if you have experience with this or know any good sources–let me know! also! who wants to come over & help me build walls & floors & maybe a rocket mass heater from whatever we can find to do that with?)


cautionary tale

i aspire
to not become
a cautionary tale

(i probably already am a cautionary tale…)
on a related note…i was trying to think of a name for my house. i am thinking of naming it “madness” after the band who wrote “our house” as well as a wink to the state of mind in buying a house that needs as much love as mine does on top of my four children & myself all being a bit mad….

my house & my dog
what will one day be my studio, office, & tarot/tattoo parlor

have a fuck

do you ever wonder
what it’s like to be
lovable
to feel
desired
do you ever wonder
if someone will maybe
someday
look at you
like that
or are you trapped
forever
some bitch
who just
doesn’t
give a fuck
anyway.

i watched brief interviews with hideous men, and it left me very conflicted. i am a lifelong feminist even though i didn’t even know what a feminist was until i was twenty-two. i have had a history of disastrous relationships and am admittedly a very dominant female.
i wonder. should women be soft & vulnerable so men can feel important? and then i’m all like, fuck that…. but part of me kinda yearns for a protector & bread winner. & then i get mad at myself…& then i say, but why not? why can’t i be a romantic & a bad ass?
and, of course, still be a feminist… i mean, anyone can be a feminist if you believe women are just as important as men. no matter if you are a stay-at-home or a conquer-the-world (or both in my case…ha!)
i don’t know.
just wondering stuff. out loud. here.

no more tears

driving home
with an eyelash in my eye
two hours
with an eyelash in my eye
wishing
a sad song
would play on the radio
because
for the life of me
i could not
make myself
cry.

unable to make myself cry and a surprising lack of sad songs on the radio made for a painful road trip. i’m not sure i know who i am if i am unable to cry at the drop of a hat? usually i can think about my childhood…my marriages…my loneliness…or the year of 2015, and i will start crying.
apparently now, there are times, when i am not completely tragic.

speaking of crying…happy mother’s day!

divine comedy

it’s all fun & games
until someone starts
a zombie apocalypse

i have been looking at other people’s art for inspiration. here’s one inspired by gustave dore. maybe i’m missing moses jones more than i realize….

comfortably conflicted

i am comforted
by the idea
of falling apart
hence
my conflict

more on that tower card conflicting me & my trying to figure out what the fuck…. i am more comfortable falling apart than i am feeling whole. this is a conflict to my healing.

if i complete me

you don’t know what
to do
if you are not
falling apart
pain & disappointment
are your norm
your baseline
picking up the pieces is your
favorite
past time
falling apart
(again)
has become
a conflict
because
you are
afraid to accept yourself
as
whole.

this is my working thought. i keep drawing the tower card lately. the falling apart, crumbling down card. and i don’t feel like i am falling apart…so i wonder why it keeps showing up.
then it occurred to me that i don’t know how to do anything if i am not falling apart. falling apart is what i do. or, rather, holding it together with all my might….
so…what do i do if i am not holding everything together? how do i function without a bus load of stress running me down? there is fight & flight…where is the relax?

what goes up

i’m up up up
again
worrying
again
about the fall
down down down
but
wait
have i learned
from my last
swan dive
have i learned
that
it’s not always
true
what goes up
must fall
back
down?

so i know i will have my ups and downs…i’m just hoping a time comes when i can go up, without then plummeting down due to my issues. lately i seem to be growing, blooming, gaining insights & praises…moving in a forward movement.
which sometimes (most times) backfires into my taking a nose dive into my dark place.
so here is my hope that i can go up without melting off my wings & crashing…. right?

the inking was reminding me of the illustrations found on old school sewing patterns…hence the scissor wings.

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