question authority

there is nothing new
about this
normal
our medical system
has always used
scare tactics
governments
have always
overreached
& people
have always
blamed
&
bullied
members of their
community
rather than
question authority.

quick rant on latest trending panic

back
when i was on the fringe
for homeschooling
my children
people would ask
with accusation in their tone
“but how will your children
be socialized?”
& i would tell them
easily
in every day
interactions
with other people…
the hypocrisy
does not
escape me
that these same people
are telling me now
keep my kids at home!
mask them!
keep your distance!
as i am shamed
for letting my kids
have those ever
still pertinent
social
interactions.

why are we letting our children be turned into socially deprived, immunocompromised neurotics?
i worry even more about our future. i am not worried about covid19…i am worried about how our reaction to it is damaging generations to come.

another art journal page inspired by my talking to the city council about re-opening our parks in this remote community with zero cases of covid.

my big stupid mouth

my plan is
to never
leave my house again
to never
open my big
stupid mouth
again
to never be
foolish
to never
believe
i have something
worthwhile
to say
to never think
anyone
wants
anything
to do with me
again….

my social anxiety & i went to a meeting of like-minded rebels concerned about the forcing of masks on our community where there are zero cases of said virus.
i had so much to say, but quickly became overwhelmed by emotion & basically was only able to stutter out some randomness that probably did not even make sense.
i left the meeting feeling (ironically) even more alone than i had felt before finding the group. i felt like a social pariah.
see? this is why i do art & write & rarely leave my little bubble….

new normal my ass

my journal pages are getting less covert & more overt about my feelings on current events & current trends as i struggle to make sense of the world & my place on the fringe.

as my posts in the next few days grow more & more vocal of my dissent, i don’t expect very many people to agree with me & respect your right to a differing opinion. however, you are only allowed to comment with your contrary opinion if you have previously commented on my blog & already have a dialogue with me. otherwise, your comment will be flushed. because if you are just piping in to criticize me…well…totally not cool with me.

lemonade

i don’t like feeling
defeated
by life
i want
instead
to be one of those
elastic
people
that bad stuff
just bounces
off
as they find
the positive
go
forth
& conquer
turning their frown
upside
down
& lemons
into
lemonade
instead
i have to hunker
down
gather my resources
& wait
for the sun
to come back out.

as i stated yesterday…vague references to current events….
ironically, as politics try to cut me off from my fellow humans…my introverted ass is out of the house joining community resistance groups & looking for straight from farm sources for food as i refuse to join in to the politics of covid.
it’s that or lay on my couch & cry.
ack.
trust me, i know what i’m doing.

instead of all this buzzing

my brain feels
like a wasps’ nest
(is the world on fire?)
why do i see
one thing
& everyone else
sees
another
how can i speak
shout
scream
& no one hears me
(is the gaslight on?)
nothing
makes sense
anymore
another day
of feeling like
i will
crawl out of my skin
while
everyone else
acts like it’s business
as usual
(is it over yet?)

while i revel in posting my innermost turmoil…i avoid posting about the turmoil in the world–topics that might cause someone to yell at me. i don’t like being yelled at. i don’t like feeling like i am not being heard. i left facebook a million years ago so i wouldn’t be subject to all the weird politics of social media.
right now
i am on the unpopular side of current events. okay…lots of times i am on the unpopular side.
do i talk about it? or just write vague art journal pages alluding to it?
hmmmm….

Ask Fear Out

this is written
in a much more comprehensive way
than i could have written
so i am sharing this post
with which i agree completely
and with all my heart

please read this:

Source: Ask Fear Out

art for resistance

i have an inbox full
of requests for donations
to resistance movements…
but i am so so broke.
how about,
if you buy my art,
i will donate 10% to the resistance movement
of your choice.
then we can both feel better
& you have supported an artist!

i am working on getting those less expensive pieces
ready . they will probably be priced at $75 to $125 a piece
depending on how much i worked on them.

ink clot

i figure that’s a good thing to call my artist’s block…an ink clot.

i stared at this for a couple hours last night while watching a romantic comedy which actually caused a little ptsd when trump made a cameo in it. there should be a trigger warning on the movie two weeks notice. how was i to know i would have to see the thing of nightmares in a fluffball of sandra bullock and that british guy who’s name is escaping me & i don’t feel like googling him?

i’m not that desperate at least.

part of my ink clot is a fear of fucking up my picture. all of a sudden. i guess if i’m taking myself seriously, then i have to worry about messing up.
crap.
i feel jinxed.
but i did work on valentine’s today…that i need to finish now if i want them to actually reach people in time. the valentine’s were fun because i don’t  have to worry about fucking them up.
but i put a price on my other stuff.
i was having a panic attack about over-pricing my art. i don’t know if i am over-pricing them. i guess i think they are worth it…but what if someone else doesn’t?
then no art for them, i guess.
that’s all there is to it.
they either sell or they don’t.

my big achievement yesterday, while not doing art, was to realize that i was born a radical.
i have been identifying very heavily with the more radical reactions to the current administration.
and then i realized.
i’ve always been a radical.
i spent my childhood challenging the patriarchy before i even knew what feminism was (it was a bad word in my childhood home–that’s all i knew about it.)
i spent my childhood challenging organized religion.
i spent my childhood challenging the constructs of gender and sexuality.

i have been in resistance from day one.

i also realized that i have no desire to try to convert any trumpettes over to my way of thinking. i know from experience (growing up with rabid conservatives) that there is very little chance of tipping that scale in my favor.
what i want to do is inspire wanna-be radicals.
what i want to do is normalize being radical the way they are trying to normalize being a racist piece of shit.
that’s my calling.
that’s what i was born to do.

one last thing.
i have been trying to stay in touch with ex-husband #1 who came for a visit after a drunken text from me on a lonely/horny impulse.
nothing happened while he was visiting (thankgodthankgodthankgod)
and i have broken it to him that i am not interested in anything ever happening. and when i said that, i said, “i hope you don’t go into hiding,” because usually if he senses any rejection whatsoever, he disappears out of my life (no texts, no emails, etc.)
he answered that he wants to be friends.
and wants to hear from me…but then i got this email from him last night:

And just so you know    Going into hiding is right behind gone missing as the stupidest phrase ever.

that’s all it said.
what the fuck is that?
who says that?
yeah.
so glad i didn’t have sex with him.

i’m trying not to write back something snarky. i am trying to just ignore it. i don’t know. maybe i should call him out on it.
what the fuck?

sometimes i hate men…or at least both the ones i used to be married to.

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