that last pregnancy

you didn’t love me
for that last pregnancy
for that last seed you planted in me
you didn’t love me
for a year & more after he was born
you didn’t love me
until i let you go
then
only then
you returned to me
like a no longer dormant venereal disease
hellbent on a rampage
love
some warped thing
that doesn’t even make sense
anymore.

i don’t think i have had good examples of “love” in my life. with my folks it was fucking or fighting. with my exes it would be crazy passion followed by extreme rejection…taking turns on the passion & rejection until one of us gave up for good. i am not sure i even know what love is supposed to look like. or how to do it.
i have to remind myself of these things, even if it is painful, because i do not want to get stuck in another fucked up relationship.

but would i even recognize a healthy relationship?

always

i’ve always loved the wrong men
giving myself away too easily
now i wait (im)patiently
for a true love that i am pretty sure
i will never find.

with babies’ birthdays to remind me of abuses past, i found myself examining my bruised & broken heart once again. my ex was not an easy man to become a parent with. i often felt like he was punishing me for becoming a mom.

from my crow’s nest

it took him years
to pull apart
the fabric of my joy
i guess its a credit to me
that the cloth was strong enough
to hold my joy
through so much sorrow
i must be like a crow
stowing away
bits of glitter
& strands of sparkle
weaving them into a nest
to hold my joy safe from all the hard stones
of pain
& isolation
some strange crow
in a fantastic nest…
now an older me
a wiser me
is tasked with collecting my joy
back to me
once more
rebuild the nest
reweave the cloth.

my ex is in my thoughts a lot with two of our children having birthdays in october. i am trying to give myself credit for surviving him. i did survive him after all.
also! in an attempt to value myself, i have decided to start submitting poems, stories, & art to magazines & whatnot. i haven’t actually done it yet, but i do have a list of possible periodicals to pester.
once upon a time i had the hoo-ha to send out novels & novels to publishers…back when you had to supply an SASE with every mailed manuscript. it’s been awhile since i have had the backbone to put myself in the line of fire for rejections…. but, i am working on it.

ps. misha suggested that this was an inking of the sun & the moon 🙂

smooches

the man jogging past my house
told me of his off leash dog
wandering towards my yard,
“he wants to smooch you,”
…that’s the most action
i’ve gotten in a long time.

just a random page–the first page–in my newest journal. i have written many pages, but i am slow to getting my drawings done while working on art for my etsy store.

eight years…

wordpress just let me know it’s my eight year anniversary
whoa
how my art
my writing
& my way of viewing myself
the world
& relationships
has changed in eight years…
maybe not anything earth shattering
but
everything
has gotten a bit more proportional at least

this is a character from a story i played around with eight years ago in an art class. a story i still hope to finish developing one day.
eight years ago i was about to give birth to my fourth & final child. i was in an awful & emotionally abusive relationship with the dad. eight years ago i was attending art classes at uw and had just spawned moses jones. eight years ago i was in a lot of pain.
i somehow survived.
now i love & adore my four little monsters even when they are driving me mad. i no longer go to the dark dark places i went to back then–or at least i can still see the light when the dark decends. i can successfully ward off the wooings of the dad (who just this past weekend tried his hand at seducing me again.) i can suffer through the loneliness knowing i am who i am & am not going to accept anything less. i am working on my third publication. i am (slowly) selling art. i am working on a novel while editing two other books i wrote years ago to see if they are publishable….
and! i have my madness manor & my breathtaking view of the hills around me. i have a home–in more sense than one.
i have found my home.

page 61

another page of moses jones: apocalyptic mama.
i have been working on this comic on & off since 2013 when i was in madison, wisconsin, attending university & living in a housing co-op.
my relationship with my ex. my children. and my experiences in a housing co-op have all heavily influenced this comic.
as well as my early exposure to apocalyptic dystopian themes in movies.

one day i hope to publish a collection of these.
one day.

soul mates

just doodling.
i never really know what i am doodling until it’s doodled.
i never know if i am going to like it or not.
i still haven’t decided about this one.

in other news…i am still trying to figure out a way to make money.
i slashed prices on all of my art.
i was thinking i could start selling baked goods…but i still don’t have an oven or a chimney….
man i need a chimney.
it’s going to be cold this winter if i don’t have my woodburning stoves up & going.
i have a yard full of hard wood stacked.
i have a woodburning stove on my porch.
but i have no chimney & cannot find a mason for the life of me….

oh, and i need income
because i am running low on funds….

sex education

i learned about sex from HBO
i learned about sex from sidney sheldon & stephen king
sure my mom told me the basics
the technicalities of it
but HBO showed me how it was done
cinemax on friday nights
before internet porn there was cable tv
before internet porn there were smutty books
i have never regretted coming of age
in the 80’s
way before the easy availability
of porn
when sex was still magical
with bits left to the imagination.

random thoughts from the too much information bits of my brain. hmmm. maybe i have sex on the brain. i can’t remember for sure what triggered this random thought.

without smooches

as the universe prepares
to dazzle me
with its vast mysteries
i just keep myself wondering
if i will ever get laid
again
for what is enlightenment
worth
without smooches

i did this page backwards. i inked an illustration and then wrote a thought around it. really. i could be having non-stop epiphanies & be the most brilliant thing in the universe…but i would still be all like, yeah–but am i pretty?

in other news, last night i had a nightmare that i remarried my ex-husband. in the dream i was lamenting the marriage just after it happened. wondering when i could divorce him again.
i have never been happier to wake up in the morning.
so–i might be lonely, but i’m not desperate.

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