landscaping

i need to prune
his tendrils
they keep
creeping
clinging
to
me
pulling me
into
quicksand dreams
of desperation
i need to prune
his tendrils
&
be free grow
tall & strong
once
again.

more art journal pages on the tendency of my ex to haunt my dreams. i really need to exorcise that ghost.

dreaming

dreams tumbling
like stones in a river
though i pick through them
admiring the swirls
& colors
i toss them back
into the river
watching
the ripples….
i know
who
i am.

a friend of mine is having some serious ancestral dreams & dreams of spirit animals…
i was feeling a little envious…but, then again, i am ten years her senior & have been doing a buttload of work of my own.
maybe i don’t need my ancestors to talk to me right now.
maybe i know who i am.

(some handy fairies today)

third time’s the charm

first
my second ex-fiance
then
my first ex-fiance
reached out to me
on the internets
of late
a ghost of 1989
a ghost of 1993
both
with dark hair
&
brown eyes
both
leos
& not complete fuckers
like many many other men
in my past (& present)
so
reflecting on such
& noticing
things happening in threes
i guess
i wait
with baited breath
for a third
&
fresh
fiance to find me
tell me if you see
a dark haired
brown eyed
leo.

a little art journaling/meditation about my (so far very uneventful) man-hunt.
i do wonder….

so i have my sheep fingers…and now angels/fairies with hands for wings–what do i call them? handy angels? angel fives? clappers?

who am i today?

i have separated out
the personalities
in my head
by what shoes
(if any)
they wear…
although
recently
a new personality
has emerged
& i have not yet
determined
her
favorite
footwear.

i think we all must have multiple personalities–just not at a clinical level. i mean, when you want to wear something colorful versus when black is the only color that will do.
or, i guess it could just be me?
& there is always that dominant personality. the one we are most days. but then there are the days when someone else takes us over & we are an all new person.
in my case, a person who does panda comics….

i did this illustration experimenting with a pen nib rather than using my usual bamboo pen. the lines are a lot more thin & consistent–less dipping required to do an inking…but i so prefer the randomness of the bamboo pen.

friendship pains

friendship
can be an ugly bird
squatting on a carcass
& laughing
at the people
we love.

this one doesn’t really make a lot of sense. i was angry with a friend who i felt was treating me callously.
i am terribly terribly anti-social. being my friend is not easy. i blame it on my scorpio rising. i just have a nasty sting when provoked.
so
this journal page happened because i felt slighted.

don’t even get me started on my across the street neighbor….

in other news…inappropriate comics with pandas!

i’m not sure about this one…i was thinking of the sound of music for some reason & pandas & well, this just kinda got away from me. i apologize. i think it is the most recent stay-at-home order making me extra inappropriate.

loud & clear

i analyzed
my dreams
this morning
& got an unanimous answer
my dreams say,
“fuck you”
fuck you & the horse
you rode in on
just
whatever dude
whatever
ever
ever
…ever
fuck off for real
like
totally.

this one goes out to my ex-husband. my second ex-husband, who won’t stay out of my subconscious for some reason. i guess my subconscious just wants to make doubly tripply sure i do not get back together with him–again.
thanks for watching out for me, subconscious!

something different

i should try something
different
i think
this
obviously
isn’t working
i gesture to the life
around me
the chaos i am
waist deep
in
the disorder
the depression
the overwhelming
sense
of helplessness…
i should try something
different
i whisper
to myself
but for the life of me
i cannot
think
of anything else
i haven’t
already
tried.

dipping my toes in darkness…again. yesterday i was dancing…today not so much. but, you know, the dance of life, the dance we do as we try to get better–two steps forward one step back.
which means, i am always dancing.
but the music changes….

fuck

i feel like
there is
nothing
left of me
most of my past
15 years
spent with creatures
who only want
to know
what i can do for
them
what can i give
them
there is no one
it seems
willing to do
for me
willing to give
to me
&
i am a husk
nothing
left.

motherhood…sigh…definitely the hardest job i have ever done. made harder still by my lack of a support system or a nurturing husband-figure. in fact, i was dealt a very needy now ex-husband-figure…. my own fault surely. wanting to feel needed….
but now, i wonder, what about my needs?
crap.

playmate

if i ever
date again
i will not call him
my “partner”
so serious
serious business…
instead
i will call him
my playmate
because
if we’re not having fun
together
what is the
point?

another one written on a day where i felt stronger than i do now. now i can’t even imagine having the energy to be in a relationship.
besides, who the fuck would want to date me?
right?
four feral children…worn out…used up…is there anything left of me?

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