dusty doesnt like it when i compare him to a hookworm

he’s not a bad guy
really
just the wrong guy
really!
he’s here again
at my invitation
it seems
though i cannot tell you
exactly how that came to be.
how is it that i invited him back
into my life
when i knew for sure
that i had finally
finally
gotten rid of him.
i knew i had seen the last of him.
but somehow
i invited him back?

my hookworm.
my favorite parasite.
the father of my four
other
favorite
parasites.

i’m not getting any work done
on my art at least
i did put up beehives today…
and i am keeping house…
and reading a really good novel…
but my art is suffering

is it because of dusty?
is it because of the endless display of
rainy days?
cloudy days?
sunless days?
is it because i have used up the quota
allowed me
of creative genius?
is it because the minions are nuts?
is it because of dusty?

so this is like, what?
all of april’s artistic efforts…
this?
yes.
this is all i have to show for my ink
in april.

trying to save the dead

i have been working on the same inking for days now. playing sick (and actually being sick with a vicious head cold) from my art and blog life.
i think i am afraid to finish a new picture because i will have to blog something here about my life…& i’m not so happy about my life right now.seems i am back in re-runs again…but the inking is almost done, and i will post it tomorrow.

…so i buried a newborn lamb this morning.

not the cutie in the picture, but the twin that was later born…stillborn…sometime in the night or early morning. i found her curled up in her sac. perfect, still, and cold. i buried her, and then spent the rest of the day–first obsessing that i should have checked on buttercup (the mom) through the night and earlier in the morning. and then obsessing that maybe the baby wasn’t dead and that i just needed to get her out of her sac, rub her vigorously, warm her up, maybe give her mouth to mouth….

and then i wondered if i was doing the same thing with my relationship with dusty. obsessing over all of the things i’m doing wrong…trying to resurrect a dead thing.

because this just isn’t working out.

again.

his being here.

what went wrong?

other than everything.

it’s very possible i cannot be in a relationship with anyone. i have a touch of the OCD and am very particular about so many things…and he takes it personally. i have been trying to not let it get to me–you know, when he moves things from the place i keep them…or leaves things in a state that i would not have…. when i was nineteen, i thought if i ever got married i would have separate houses.

and then there are his issues. he goes on the defensive. he has started accusing me of gaslighting him (after i pointed out how he gaslights me.) he goes on the offense when he feels he has to protect himself. like mean & shout-y offense. an offensive offense.

and then i shut down.

and the circle spins. our vicious circle.

the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. but i get so hopeful & deluded so easily.

maybe it’s not hopeless…but it sure as fuck feels that way.

edge of the world

i’m in kind of a “meh” mood about my art.
that happens.
periodically.
maybe i should work on a different project for awhile.
my memoirs.
or an illustration gig for a friend.
maybe make a zine.
or work on a new page of moses jones: apocalyptic mama. right? who remembers mojo? who misses mojo? i miss her sometimes.

edge2.JPG

speaking of…things have taken a weird turn with the dusty knickers of my life…okay…not so weird, if you are familiar with our on-again/off-again relationship which showed up in my comic as his disappearing every time moses got pregnant. my dusty never left me–in the physical sense, but did pull away emotionally. and behaved self-destructively. and was incredibly manipulative.
and i swore it was done and that i would never ever ever ever ever take him back again (i have broken up with him–maybe as many as seven times?–and he has inched his way back in, waiting until i am vulnerable….)
but i invited him back in, again, on a trial basis. and it is really nice to have him back. i am well aware that this is the “honeymoon” period…but–as cautious as i am, it is nice to have  him back.
so…can people change?
he had some life-changing stuff happen. he realized a lot of things about himself and how his relationship with his mom shaped his self-destruction, lying, and manipulative behaviors. and now…he is behaving in a healthy way that i have never seen from him. like…communicating…like…having conversations & being human.
it’s weird.
and even though i am lonely and desperate for company and tired of doing this alone…i don’t think i am vulnerable. i mean, i know i can do it alone if i have to.
but i don’t want to.
but i know that i can. and i am willing to do it alone rather than be in a fucked up relationship.

i guess we’ll see what happens.
i don’t have the best track record for making good decisions about men & relationships.

but…people can change…i mean, i have changed. i really have.

and you know what? i threw him out. i did it. i can do it again. i know i can. i know i am stronger now. more sure of myself.

he knows it, too.

edge1.JPG

too close to the sun

i was halfway through inking this when i realized it was a depiction of the story of icarus. i kept not liking it because i was like, “why are they all so upset?” then i realized it was icarus flying too close to the sun as his father watched in dismay. then i went ahead and found some of the backstory in the origins of the minotaur. this is the second time mythology has crept into an inking without my realizing it.

they are kind of like my dreaming. these inks. i just go with it, and when it is done, i’m all like, “oh. so that’s where my mind is.”

and apparently sheep are on my mind a lot. this is the third ink in a row with sheep in it. as i anxiously await more lambs and wonder what am i going to do with my lambs and how the fuck do you milk a sheep and i really need to build more pasture and i really need a boyfriend or husband or single mom to partner up with me and help me with all this….

and i continue to obsess about the one.
and then i obsess about my obsession.
do i want him back in my life because i am avoiding my own issues?
do i want him back in my life because i believe he is a missing element of myself?
is there such a thing as true love or is it all just a fabrication to sell flowers & diamonds?
am i silly to want him?
or am i brave?
can i be me…and still long for a man?

or is my wanting another relationship just my own example of flying too close to the sun?

tooclose1.JPG

 

clearly dragons

this is what i have been working on for a few too many days now.
it’s a simple inking…& clearly dragons.
but as usual…nothing is simple.
the minions are in wisconsin with their dad.
and i am alone.
but it’s more than that.
lately i have been feeling alone at a really profound soulular level.
(i just made that word up…is it working for you?)
so i’m lonely.
to the bone.
maybe it’s something i have always felt.
even as a child i believed i wasn’t from here, dropped off my my alien race because i had romanticized what it would be to be human….
and lately
the lonely is more profound
because i am not hiding myself in relationships.
i am facing the lonely. to some extent.
i got drunk with an old friend on saturday.
before that i was at a beekeeping class all day.
i fell in love with the vice president of the bee association.
then i convinced myself to pursue my old friend.
and when neither of these panned out, i texted my first ex husband.
he has been romanticizing me since i left him in 2002…
so he was happy to drive to see me & to live happily ever after.

i could have gone with that.
at least for a little while.
it felt nice to have someone come see me & pay attention to me.
i could have taken it further.
i could have started something back up with him.
so you know what my immune system did?
it went ass end up and i got sick.
he came to see me & i got a cold.
i have a pretty fucking solid immune system.
and i got sick.

there were no sparks.
even though i have been feeling electric
and feeling i could fall in love with the world.
i couldn’t do it.
i could not be dishonest with myself one more time.
i just couldn’t.
i was relieved when he left.
i mean, i loved seeing him.
but more importantly, i loved having that escape route cut off.
i cannot keep romanticizing exes because moving forward might be painful.

maybe he learned the same thing…i  hope he learned the same thing.

it’s okay to be lonely. it’s okay to crave a connection.

it’s not okay to lie to myself to get it.

a little ditty

in the late 90’s i was living in lexington, kentucky, waiting tables at a pub with a club attached. one night i was next door at the club when random older guy starts talking to me. i was enjoying the conversation to some extent, when he mentioned that one of his employees had a huge crush on me.
i perked up & got a lot more interested in the conversation.
i have always loved the idea of secret admirers and spent most of my childhood imagining someone was secretly watching and would swoop in & show the world my genius…yes, i had a talent scout as an imaginary friend.

so guy is telling me not much about my secret admirer, except that he works for guy’s pool building business and that they often eat lunch at the pub, but my secret admirer is afraid to approach me & will not.

guy goes on to tell me that his own name is “chester.” adding that he is not a molester. note to y’all: if someone feels compelled to tell you they are not something–that is a red flag.

so chester who says he is not a molester invites me to go have some food at perkin’s. i am always game for free food and adventure, so i agree. i was not getting any too-weird of vibes off of him…and free food.
plus i wanted to hear more about my secret admirer.

so i went to perkin’s with him & he fed me & entertained me. when he finds out i have the next 3 days off (fourth of july weekend) he invites me to come out to his farm & ride his horses. he assures me that he has guests out there all the time & that he is very popular.

of course all i hear is “ride horses”…something i had never done despite my life-long love of horses.

i am not a normal person. if you read my blog, you know, i am special…& i say that with my tongue in my cheek. where most women would be like, “hell no, strange man, i will not go out to your remote farm alone with you at night.”

not me. i’m like, “sure!”

horses and a secret admirer…it was like he knew & was offering me my favorite candy to follow him home.

once at his place…i started to get the serious creeps. he had way too many antiques (i have a fear of antiques) and he kept standing way too close to me.

he had to get up early to work at his pool building company where my secret admirer worked and asked, “you can sleep in my bed of the guest room.”

GUEST ROOM! i told him.

“i have to warn you, i sleep naked.”

GUEST ROOM!

so i go to bed with my body on high alert. his dogs come and get in the bed with me. which is great because i trust dogs, even if they are owned by a molester. i wear all my clothes. i only take off my shoes.

sometime in the wee hours of the morning, he creeps into the room and shoos the dogs off of the bed and climbs in, naked, and cuddles up to me. i am rigidly laying there, pretending to be asleep, waiting for him to have to get up and go to work. like a opossum, playing dead/pretending to be asleep is one of my go-to defenses. not a practical one always, and it has pissed off many a boyfriend…but i just kind of shut down. i freeze. on retrospect i wish i had jumped out of the bed and kicked him right in the crotch…but i was conflicted, scared, confused, and had no idea where i actually was in order to escape.

he left for work.

i took his van…& left him a note??? what? another thing i would change on retrospect.

other than being totally creeped out & traumatized by mr. molester, my big worry was that he would tell my secret admirer that he had slept with me.

i know. what? really?

my boyfriend at the time (yes, i had a boyfriend, but he was an awful boyfriend who i just couldn’t seem to get rid of) blamed me. he told me it was my fault.

so i went back to work, but i kept an eye out for my secret admirer. here’s the thing about me. i love blue collar guys. i love cops & firemen & farmers. given the choice between a successful clean cut banker and a scruffy guy who builds his own cabinets and smells of the outdoors…it’s really no contest.

so i picked out my favorite blue collar guy who ate lunch at the pub. he was a little guy (i also have a thing for little guys–check out my adam ant post) with a shaved head and a big nose (yup, add big noses onto my list of attractions.) i would watch him whenever he came into the pub with his co-workers. but he never ever looked at me. we never made eye contact. it was almost as if he was actively avoiding looking at me.

but he stayed my favorite pretend secret admirer.

i left kentucky to escape the bad boyfriend. i waited until he went to work, packed everything up, left a note (again with the notes?) and had one of my sisters drive me to illinois. my plan was i would stay with my folks and save money & go to school in the fall. but my folks pissed me off and i packed up and headed back to kentucky where i was going to meet up with another sister who was going to let me move to galveston, texas with her. she had a couple more weeks before she was moving to lexington.

naturally, i went out to the pub & to see a show at the club. i was drinking and perched on the edge of the pool table, watching the band, when i noticed my pretend secret admirer was there and he was actually making eye contact.

so i hopped down and went over to say hi.

we got married about a month later.

he was the guy who was secretly in love with me. when he found out i was headed to texas, he proposed. again, normal woman would be like, “hell no, strange man, i’m flattered, but maybe we can take this slow…or, you know, too bad–you snooze you lose.”

not me. i married  him. thing about me is i want so badly to be loved, that i will marry a stranger if he says he loves me.

i think the only reason a serial killer hasn’t gotten me by now is that i wear pretty boring underwear that may or not actually be underwear. there isn’t much about me to feed those fetishes. but tell me you love me, and i will marry you.

i think it helped that i had been pretending he was in love with me for so long–and then to actually find out he was in love with me–it was like an overload to my brain.

a month after we were married, he said he didn’t think he loved me.
and i threw up.
and i moved out.

as i like to do (or else why would i do it so often?) we had an on-again/off-again relationship for three years. i divorced him in the middle of that time, but we often dated and even had long-distance relationships when i would leave lexington to adventure in other cities. but, overall, he was so withdrawn and barely present in our relationship, that my ego actually suffered and i spiraled downwards until i started losing all respect for myself and moved to wisconsin to get that kentucky funk off of me.

if you are still reading this, i will get to the point.

he emails now and then to flirt with me. i get pissed off because where was this devotion when we were married? and my being pissy sends him straight back to his cave.

but the other night i was out with a friend who reminded me of my secret admirer in a way. so i texted him, not realizing he did not actually have my current number. once he figured out who i was, i ended up asking him to come see me.
and he said yes.
and he is supposed to be here tomorrow.
and i am excited to see him…but worried i am setting myself up.
like i’m feeling too strong lately so i need to knock the wind out of my own sails.
would i do that–yes, well, i have a history of doing that….

he says he has changed.
he says he is a better man now.
i tell him that my other ex-husband says the same things.
i tell him that i have had two lonely marriages & don’t want to do that anymore.

he’s coming to see me, trying to bring baskets full of rainbows & unicorns & being together.
i told him, come see me, yes, but leave the promises at home.
i don’t trust promises.
he won’t get any promises from me.
i don’t want any from him.

what is it with my fucking ex-husbands and loving me after i am gone?

so, anyway, all that is why i haven’t gotten any ink done in a couple days. i have been busy, physically & emotionally.
but i should have this finished by the end of the day.

pixie

i got several text messages from my ex-husband today. he is lost and wants me to find him.

he started out asking if we had snow. we don’t. he does. “is that different from when you were a kid?” he asks about my snowless winter. he knows i worry about climate change. his question is a question about that. instead of comforting me, he likes to provoke my fears.

but i’m really not in the mood. not anymore.

“doom & gloom” i text back to him. he thinks i am referring to myself. i let him know that i feel he is always trying to get me to think about the worst.
i let him know i am done thinking about the worst.
& i am done with him.

he tells me he wants to be my ally.
i ask, why, he never has been before.

he tells me he wants to support my dreams.

he tells me he has been doing crunches.

after awhile i stop answering his texts. after i tell him that there are so many things wrong with the world that all i can do is to choose to be happy.

i am happy. strangely enough.

i am happy.