especially me

today
i hate
everybody
& wonder
if i should just
drink beer
for breakfast
because
what
the
fuck
i am stuck
in a world
full of
bullshit
& it’s all just
bullshit
&
yes
i know tomorrow
or later today
(after that beer probably)
i will feel
differently
& even might
find myself
aglow
with brotherly love
but
right now
i especially hate
that person.

another one still from this angsty week of mine. i’m a big old snarky mess sometimes. but, rest assured, the person i hate most of all is often myself.

ink & bamboo pens are wonderful for expressing messy feelings.

ps. if you are looking for some good stuff on netflix to have an angsty binge…i recommend happy and russian doll.

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crusty & morose

my soul
is dislocated
i cannot feel
anything
but a raging fire
of
indifference
with light showers
of disgust
& several hues
of irritation
life feels like
lukewarm
leftovers
that i am hungry
enough
to eat
some of
but then the rest
is left
to become
crusty
a half-finished
bowl
of
disappointment.

it’s like a drinking game for mixed metaphors. ha! i am starting to feel better. doing art has relieved some of my angst. but it is still there. seeping. dripping. getting under my foundation and uprooting all my so-called progress (i had to throw in another fucking metaphor.)
i feel ugly & fat & my hair is just stupid & everything sucks.
but!
i will keep drawing & see if i can ink myself out of this corner. (does that count as a metaphor?)

credit to evelyn de morgan for the illustration today. she is pretty awesome & all of her artwork just oozes gloom & doom.

doodles

i have written eight art journal pages since last night
eight art journal pages in my new journal
but i have yet to draw me…
i am having a bit of a creep day
(radiohead would understand)
and drawing requires
a more delicate touch
or maybe i will just go with the thick
black
angry
lines
that are bound to happen when
inking while angsty….
however
the drawings will come
as i have decided
one
cannot
do
too many self-portraits.
so stay tuned, my lovelies….

some doodles for those of you who think i’m a one trick pony…haha…i got lots of tricks…i am a tricksey hobbit.

to do list for the week of no minions:
illustrations for another writer’s work
pages of moses jones
self-portrait art journal pages
the invisible exhibitionist
chasing ghosts
maps! maps! maps!

see? very tricksey

so much anger in this one

i have a touch of the rabies.
my brain feels like it’s on fire.
i tend to absorb energy…something about being an empath…and i had a crazy distant relative show up on my doorstep with all her stuff, inviting herself to move in and tell me everything wrong with my life and me.
her energy was so fucking fucked up. i felt myself turning into her.
by the end of her surprisingly short visit, as she was escorted off of my property by the sheriff, i was terrified.
i hate being scared. i hate it. but i was having flashbacks to other times in my life where i have felt trapped by unpredictable and angry angry nasty people. you know, like last christmas.
i went into survival mode. repeating to myself, “do not engage. do not engage.” laying low and wishing i had a panic room and wondering how i let this person just walk through our front door and threaten my children.
how did that happen?

i don’t know if she triggered something…or if it is hormonal…or if i am just perpetually broken, but now i am spinning out feeling like an awful mom and just wanting to disappear.

so this is a doodle as i was trying to figure out how to draw my children in a journal page i am working on.
yes…children as pygmy demons.
my four year old hates me. seriously. maybe i will work on a journal page about that as well. but he does. he tells me daily. as well as telling me he wishes i was dead.
so, yay mom-time.
meanwhile, i might just have another beer and stare at the wall and practice my skill of vanishing into my own brain.

ps. i was working on this outside to spend time with my therapy goats…so there are some muddy (at least i hope it’s mud) footprints on my journal page.

deer me

i didn’t draw a picture yesterday
yes
i posted a picture
but i did not draw a picture
the crying lady
was drawn
egads
six years ago?
a historian of me
and my art
would have you notice the lack of ink brush painting
the use of pastels
the relatively light–
but still inaccurate–
shadowing….
so i didn’t draw yesterday. i was rabid most of the day. evil nasty pissy me was in charge of my brain yesterday. i did do some ink splattering, however. i probably should have posted that, at least, but–you know–rabies.
so i started a drawing today after the weirdness of thanksgiving was done
(why did my elderly aunt ask me if i had gotten my concealed carry license???)
i started a drawing but did not get too far before the minions were begging me to watch more doctor who. (more, doctor who, mummy–more!…i love my minions)

a deer.
there is a deer, clear as the day if the day were inside my head amidst the sparks & sinkholes.
a deer.
a reminder to be gentle.
be gentle, deer me.
be gentle.
my bones ache and teem with anger. repressed anger. oozing anger. anger that is easily directed at undeserving targets and leaves me knowing i am going to have a lot to make up in my next life….
be gentle.
i see deer a lot since a friend read me a medicine card with a deer in it. of course i live in the middle of the prairie lands…but still. one day four walked across the road in front of my car in the middle of a town. one night driving home, a buck darted right in front of my car. a doe stood, making me come to a stop, several yards past him. one day while gardening, a deer made her way across the field next to my yard, stopping to stare at me whenever my movements rustled the leaves around me.

be gentle.

meanwhile, i have banished an ex-husband and another ex-husband starts sending flirty emails. but the thing about my exes, they all have such thin skin. i have found that honesty sends them skittering away. i’m not trying to be mean…honest…i just tell them how i feel when they use me as a distraction…and they skitter away.

honesty is brutal. but it is also gentle. lies may hurt less, but they will kill you in the end.

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