my impossible escape

i made it my impossible dream
living with only it in mind
& when i found it
i embraced it. made it my everything
got completely
utterly
lost in it
with time however & happenstance
i began to wear it
as my own crown of thorns. my misery
my impossible escape
then i began to push it away
to deny it like peter at the gate
not me
not this
sleight of hand. look over there
nothing to see here…definitely not me
not like this….
but now i see
it is yet another balancing act
a recipe
i have to be
a little of this. a little of that.
& every bit of me.

this is based on an inking i did about motherhood a year ago.
i am happy to report that i am coping much better. on thursday, my minions came home after spending 10 days with dusty. the energy was crazy & knocked me on my ass (metaphorically.) however, i was able to get back on my feet and not lose my mind. not even at dusty who was really really trying to piss me off.
yay!

my crown of thorns; my impossible escape
9X12 inking on watercolor paper
$45 plus $5 shipping

work in progress

i have started writing down deep thoughts about my lifelong flirtation with androgyny…which then became an examination of my masculine & my feminine.
then i was hiking the other day, letting my mind run free, and decided it might make a good comic.
of course i have imposter’s syndrome about my history of gender non-conformation…especially since becoming a mother & growing boobs.
but!
i still think my story might be one worth telling.
so here is the beginnings of (working title) notta not-a-boy

making new comics brings to light my neglecting of my baby moses jones…so i did dig her out and am looking at where that story left off.

meanwhile, i have a list as long as my arm of other comics i want to create. i better get my ass in gear. stop moping in my daily journals & start some storytelling!

xo

i don’t need another hero

i’ve changed
my heart no longer
starts or stops
with
the attention
or lack thereof
of a potential suitor
i’ve changed
my priorities
are me & mine
not his
i am no longer
looking
for a hero
no longer
waiting
to be saved.

this was a nice epiphany. too much of my life has been spent obsessing over the needs–wants–desires of whomever i was with at the time. too much time wasted trying to please other people. i was thrilled to realize that part of my brain has switched off in favor of taking care of what i need, want, and desire.
it’s about fucking time.
so i’m not sure what this means in terms of romantic relationships except that i no longer plan to get swallowed up by one.
i’m writing my own story now.

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

blanket of anger

my anger is a blanket
i cannot
get out from under
no matter
how i struggle
i am suffocating
in my own
anger
i kick & kick & kick…
he cannot hear me
no matter how loud
i scream
& all i can hear
is echoes of him
in our children
i scream
& scream
& scream
& no one hears me
& nothing changes.

yup. more angst at the ex. fuck me when my kids start trying to gaslight me in a little mini-him gesture. i have no tolerance for it. i call them on it.
do i call him on it?
would it do any good?
i guess, at least, i can hope to raise a handful of men who do not gaslight. who know better….

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

regrets

if i had known then
what i know now
will send me on an endless
loop
of regret
it’s an impossible wish
because no matter how i lived my life
i could always find something
i completely fucked up.

i am finding myself struggling with issues of control right now. being the child of an alcoholic control freak, i became obsessed with finding control over my own life. relationships have always been hard for me because i want control–so i can feel safe, but i am also programmed to be “a good wife.” those two things do not live well together. i usually end up resenting and alienating anyone who dares to date/live with/marry me.
then i became a mom.
talk about no fucking control.
so here i am now, trying to renovate a house, raise four kids, and navigate a friendly relationship with my ex for the sake of co-parenting.
i feel like i am drowning under all of the needs of the house, the kids, and even the ex. i want to fix everything…but so many things spin out of my control.
i am so burned out, y’all.

but i have my art. my art keeps me sane.
if i knew then…. 9X12 ink on watercolor paper…$45

resting…

sometimes
it is okay to rest
sometimes
i can let myself
step away
take a break
from trying to save the world.

i’ve got a bit of the covid, y’all. this is the second time i have had it. the first time being the fall of 2019. it was much worse that time, but i am recovering.
in addition to being sick (or because of being sick) i am in a god-awful mood. terrible mood. i am grumpy as fuck.
i am trying to re-imagine my world.
messing around with my art & writing.
feeling miserable about myself as a mom.
wishing i could just figure all this shit out….

i hope y’all are having a comparatively easy autumn slide into the holiday overtures.

fresh inkings

my “inspirational” inkings will cut to the chase
they’ll tell you what’s what
with a good dose of anxiety
depression
and troubled mothering…
you too can replace your “hang in there” kitten
with some fresh quixotic inkings

for sale directly from me via paypal (quixoticmama@gmail.com) or through my etsy store.
all are 9X12 $45.

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