INKtober fifth

what do you do
if you realize
you are still in love
with the person
you hate?
hey–
remember when you
were friends?
remember
when he was your best
friend?
wait–
why are you doing this?
why are you torturing
yourself?
is this just another
“i’m lonely & looking
to fill in the blanks?”
is this just your way
of never
healing?
what is it with you
anyway?
shouldn’t you have
gotten
over
him
already?
or…things like this
the lost forever
is it even
possible
to heal
that
wound?

so, okay, i’m already hell-bound, but i so love catholic art. and, you know, i noticed yesterday that the inktober prompt was “spell” and i did a picture based on swan lake–a fairy tale where people are under a spell.
and today, the prompt is “chicken” and i did a picture based on saint peter–that jesus-denying motherfucker.

blasphemy.
such a fun word.

anyhoo! my art journal inktober fest continues as i delve into that conundrum of feelings i have for my ex-husband. i love him…i hate him…i love him…i hate him. my roller coaster relationship.

do i want to try again? or am i just horny?
more at ten….

(is it me or do my boobs & mommy tummy look better when i’m hung upside down until dead?)

Advertisements

the ascension

okay
so i’m totally
starting
my life…now.
no
for real
right now
seriously
i am starting my life
you see
turns out
i was holding the map
upside down
but now
now
i’ve got it right
& i’m ready
to do this
ready
to start my life…
(watch me go!)

i didn’t plan this one out either…but i had been wanting to throw in some stigmata…what recovering catholic can resist a little stigmata?

we are kind of in a midst of this vein (ha–no pun intended) of my art journal.
my little revelation.
ooh–revelations. there’s another good catholic outlet….

ps. it is less than a week until my 30 year high school reunion. picture every movie you’ve seen about small town high schools. yeah. that’s it.
and i was carrie…except they didn’t even like me enough to dump pig’s blood on me….
so i still don’t have a date…unless tara makes it down here in time….
should i stay or should i go? i did rsvp “no” to the sit-down steak dinner…but “maybe” to the after bar. instead of saying i had to wash my hair–i said i had to put away my livestock…which is true.
still….
i thought it might be in bad taste to ask if anyone cool would be there. odds are no. i mean, in a class of 70-some, there were very few cool people.
& why would they come back?
(i mean other than to homestead with their four children because they were broke & twice divorced & had no where else to go?)
so i need someone super hot & dazzling to be my most awesome date ever…is david tennant available maybe?
or i will just stay home, drink a beer, and look at the stars.

eat me

i would make
a terrible martyr
i am more akin
to jonah
who had to be consumed
by a whale
before he could embrace
his destiny
oh!
to be eaten by a whale
sounds like a relief
compared
to celebrating
the path
dancing down that path
triumphant
in who i am
& what i need to do.

last night i was ready to give up. i went to bed crying. i don’t know what i’m doing. i feel like everything i do is meaningless. i try to take care of myself, but i still look like crap thanks to having four kids and whatever fucked up genes i have that accompany child birthing with seemingly permanent excess fat loads. i’m all like, who would ever love me? i look like crap. who am i kidding?
and then let’s take a look at my art…my so-called art. my terrible writing. do i even make sense? it sucks. i feel like i am a five year old scribbling in a closet hoping that someone notices…angry that no one notices…crushed that no one notices.
i went to bed crying.
i was going to stop.
stop art.
stop ever expecting love.
stop trying.
i was completely & totally planning on giving up on my so-called life.
no hope for love.
no hope for recognition.
no hope for ever earning an income despite working my ass off every day and going to bed exhausted every night….
my life is futile.
my life is a joke.

then. last night as i was crying in the shower, a spider stared me down. a big furry one. it seemed as disgusted with me as i felt.
then. as i sat dejected at my desk this morning, a swallow flew up to my window. three times. three times exactly.

so being a witch…i try to pay attention to the universe’s messages to me. like with the number thing. if you believe the universe is a living & connected thing, then like master ugwe says, “there are no accidents.”
(i that like better than “everything happens for a reason” which is difficult for me to believe…but, there are no accidents? that kind of makes sense.)
and a bird, a specific bird, flying to my window three times, that seems to be a message.

so i got on google and found this site and this information on swallows as a spirit guide. basically asking, are you fucked up? sad? disconnected from your true self? swallow is here to restore your happiness & to help you embrace your journey in a playful and carefree way.
well fuck me running, that resonated.
so i figured i should check with what spider was telling me in the shower. and there it is. finishing what i start. following my destiny. weaving my magic.
not being overwhelmed.
not quitting.

sigh

okay.
how do i do it? how do i embrace my destiny? how do i dance down my path instead of lying down in the weeds next to it & waiting for something to eat me?

to be continued…
(i wonder what spirit guide will show up next…or just fucking eat me.)

embracing my failures

i’m not living in the past
i’m not living in the future
i’m in the right now
& it fucking
sucks
it fucking
hurts
like hell
but i’m present
i’m here
embracing
my failures.

i was doing “yoga with adriene” last night. the theme was “embrace.” she asked us, her youtube audience, to embrace something.
being one to often cry during yoga
being one who having a hard day has become more of a given than an exception
being one to spend too much time inside my head
try as i might
all i could come up with was, “i embrace my failures.”

then cried some more because i had nothing better to embrace…cried while i stretched & toned in an effort to stay sane & fit.

i wondered at my embracing failure. it sounded like negative to me at first. like a failure in itself. i had not found anything good to embrace…only bad.
but then i wondered if it might be a good thing to embrace my failures.
right?
what else do you do with them?
hide them?
hidden things tend to fester…at least in my experience.
so maybe my embracing my failures is a step in the right direction after all.

embrace
resolve
turn around
try again….

so while that percolates on that flame of my brain, on another burner i have this noticing of a recurrence of the number six in my daily life. i have never gotten around to studying numerology, but i do notice when the same number keeps popping up. like when the clock shows my birthday…or my brother’s death day….
being a good (though recovering) catholic, i especially notice a triplet of sixes–which recently showed up on the odometer of the car i just bought. and although i do not cross myself…i do feel an impending doom when i see it.
however, being a born again pagan, i thought to myself today, what does numerology say about the number six?

i found this on a google. six as a life path number. basically spelling out all of the character traits that i have that i do battle with on a daily basis. i mean, yes, of course i want to change the world & fight for the little guy…but why can’t i just lay in the grass & drink a beer? or be a traveler with no responsibilities, leaving when things get rough? why can’t that be who i am? why do i have to be the ultra-responsible, high morality, wanna-be savior of mankind?
does mankind even deserve being saved?
can’t i take a vacation?

no. because i have actually shaped my whole fucking world around raising four children to be different. to not be like everyone else. to creating a better tomorrow in the only way i know how. by being a good mom. a strong mom. and i can’t run away from it. i have to stick to it and keep trying no matter how much i feel like i’m failing…even though it seems like i am always failing…i just have to embrace my fucking failures, and i have to keep
fucking
trying.

wow, see that?
i came full circle.