no fucks left to give

i think i have developed a callus
on my soul
…or is it that i have completely run out
of fucks to give?
it feels
i feel
like the calluses on my feet
the callus on my soul
allows me to run
where others must
& crawl

today, my trump supporting little sister who now lives in germany with her army husband, sent me a big box of german chocolate.
today i accepted a friend request on facebook from a fellow homesteader…and then saw a pro-trump post by him.

and i was all like. whatever.

that was it. no anger. no need for vengeance. no blinding need to light a match & burn that bridge…

weird. i still hate trump. i still want to see him impeached and all of his cronies de-throned…
i still will continue working towards equal rights for everyone and will never stop celebrating diversity.
and i have no intention of stopping my efforts towards resistance & rebellion….

still, all i could muster was a “meh.”

am i de-sensitized? numb? overwhelmed by the bad news sermons of dusty? (seriously, he can put an apocalyptic spin on anything!!)

or does the callus on my soul simply allow me to process without becoming overwhelmed, numb, and de-sensitized?


i listen for the little voices it is night time when their voices are loudest

longest title yet for one of my inks.

this drawing made me think of my anxiety…it made me think of all the stuff going on in my head all of the time…especially at night, laying in bed.
i don’t mind the little voices too much. not the constructive ones anyway. the destructive ones can fuck the fuck off. you know, the ones who blather on and on about how you should have said this instead of this and now everyone thinks you are a great big idiot? i am learning to tune them out…except of course when i most need to tune them out….


the constructive little voices…the ones obsessively trying to figure out how to save the world…how to be the best mom ever…how to finish a piece of art…how to start a short story…what project to tackle next…how to deal with this problem, or that one. those voices rock. it’s like i’m doing the prep work while i’m laying in bed. i work it all out and then i’m ready to go.

those little voices convinced me, after reading a carrie fisher memoir followed by a carrie fisher novel (the two overlapping quite a bit) i realized, i should be writing my memoir…as fiction…or creative non-fiction…or in long hand! with illustrations! and i can publish it as zines!


alas, the destructive little voices were stressing about yesterday’s post and telling me it was pretty fucking dumb & unhelpful…then the constructive little voices started suggesting follow-up blog posts on sustainable living–talking about all the things i do every day. i mean, if i want to be a trend-setter, i do have to start sharing more my awesome trends in sustainable living…(okay, awesome to me, the destructive little voices are going to have a hay day with that.)

or i can turn it into a zine too–with illustrations!!

okay. i just had a cup of coffee. i haven’t had one in days because one of two appliances i own–my coffee grinder–broke.
but today i realized that my other appliance–the blender–is actually just a giant coffee grinder!! another step in sustainability–no specialized appliances!

but i do need to get a mortar & pestle for grinding spices…or make one.


listen up sheeples

born of evie the sheep, sired by tyler durden…it’s lambchop II.

i was outside yesterday, checking on my wayward minions, when i heard a weird bleating coming from the pasture. i found evie the sheep on the far side of the pasture, in labor. she would lay, heaving & pushing, then she would get up–re-position–and lay back down to bleat & push. i noticed when she stood up that there was a pair of legs hanging out of her sheep vagina. since i am new to the who sheep raising business, i don’t know if this is normal or not.

but i didn’t panic. i trusted that she knew what she was doing…or nature would take it’s course. i was told that hair sheep are pretty good at taking care of the lambing themselves. so i waited & watched. then i let evie know–she is a pretty timid sheep & doesn’t let me near her–that i was there to help. and asked her if she needed help.

she didn’t seem certain one way or the other. so i waited a little longer.

finally i got the feeling that she was pushing, but not much was happening. so i got up and went to her and held her up and encouraged her. i could see the back legs of her lamb hanging out… and the little tail wagging! so i gave that little lamb butt a tug and the lamb came right out.

i caught a baby lamb while my minions watched from the sidelines.

that’s pretty cool, right? see what i’m teaching them?

which brings me to why i got on here to make a post in the first place.
the world is fucked, y’all.
it’s fucked.
i am a mess because i am an antenna for all the bullshit going on all day long all over this fucked up planet.
sure, there is good stuff…& people trying to make a difference…but evil is more powerful than good. good is more persistent, but evil is more powerful.(my latest epiphany while watching star wars: episode III last night with the minions)
most people–even if they are aware of the problems happening–do not have the discipline or whatever to actually change their lives. they just kind of shrug and say, “oh well.” and those are the ones that actually have pulled their heads out of the sand to have a look around. most people prefer to hum loudly & close their eyes.

very few people are actually willing to change their lives.

i know i should be trying even harder than i am. i look at the packaging on the groceries i buy and i want to cry. how do i buy groceries with less packaging when no one will produce groceries with less packaging? often times the organic red peppers or cucumbers and individually wrapped for fuck’s sake! why does a vegetable need to be wrapped in plastic? fuck me running. i try to buy good products…but then there is packaging. so much fucking packaging. i will never buy sandwich cookies again. seriously? so much fucking packaging.

so i know i am just one lunatic screaming into my ham radio…preaching to the choir probably, because why would someone listen to this unless they already agreed with me?

so the world is fucked and i need to figure out a way to not let this turn me into an screaming lunatic…but still keep working to save it. to hear & feel the world around me…without letting it kill me. to keep trying…even if it feels like i’m using a spoon to dig out the grand canyon.

fuck. i need to meditate & do some fucking yoga..maybe go watch my sheep for a bit.

oh! and i need to finish these two inks i started a few days ago but have been too fucked up by this fucked up world to work on since:

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.

work in progress

when i was in my late teens & early twenties
i had such debilitating social anxiety
that i could barely carry on a conversation
much less express how i felt in a constructive way
my therapist taught me to approach a situation with this:
“i feel _____ when you _____”
i need to remember this
as well as to examine why
i feel that way when you _____.
in this world as i know it.
i see two problems with communication.
those who don’t follow the above advice
and react without thinking
and those who over-think the situation
and never act on it.
my realizing this doesn’t fix anything.
the world seems to continue on with it’s problems
despite my epiphanies…
but i am going to do my best
to examine why i feel hurt when my feelings are hurt
and to just ACT when i see someone else being hurt.
i was going to post this on facebook. but i think i need to severely curtail my relationship with facebook for the sake of my mental health as well as for the sake of my children who are the only ones nearby i can vent at when i have absorbed just way too fucking much of the facebook world.
so from now on i will blog my thoughts and share the post on facebook. if anyone wants to listen to my rantings…or peruse my art…you can always just look at my art and get a more veiled look at my psyche than my journal provides…so if anyone wants a look-see, they will have to leave facebook and come here. i know it is just one link click away…but it’s one click away.
i feel safer here than i do on facebook. i kinda shoot from the hip and choose to try to express myself effectively rather than thinking about how someone might interpret my word usage. i was recently “called out” on facebook (i hate that expression) for using a word. however, i used the word correctly & inoffensively & in referencing my own mental health, but someone was still offended by it. instead of talking to me about it, this person just berated me. and i withdrew, but i refused to take it back.  maybe if she had said, “i feel _______ when you _________” then i would have known that she was responding to me as a human & not just reacting to a word i used in a way  she didn’t like. and i in turn could think about why i felt it necessary to use the word and why i was hurt by her berating me for it.
here is what i am going to do:
i will not use my words to hurt (or if i do it will be clear that i intend to hurt with them–like calling trump an asshole.) but if my words do end up hurting, instead of just attacking me, tell me why you feel that way. okay? let’s have a conversation about it.
so my brain being on overdrive is one reason i have not finished my ink. lately i have been getting at least one a day worked on, but i am stuck on this one. with all of the “oh my god look what trump is doing now” in my facebook feed & in my email, i am shutting down and unable to function. i constantly have that nagging feeling in my head that there is something wrong that i need to obsess about…and then i realize it is everything. i need to worry about everything that is going on in the world.
but actually, what i need to worry about is taking care of my kids and my homestead and even myself–because if i shut down due to internalizing all of the bullshit trump is doing, i will be useless at saving the world.
and i need to do art.
but in the meantime, if you need somewhere safe to stay, here i am. come stay at my homestead. i would love to have my place be  a functional safe haven for oppressed people.
and i will be your ally when i do venture out into the world…even if i sometimes use inappropriate words like “fucktard.”

turquoise sun

i didn’t go to the women’s march yesterday. i thought about it. and if i still lived in madison, or somewhere where the closest march was not an hour & a half away, i would have been there. but waking up and getting four kids ready and packing food because we can’t afford to buy food. and filling water bottles. and driving. and finding parking. and herding four kids through crowds.

i let it overwhelm me.

if you read yesterday’s post, you know my mindset was not in the best place for movement.

after a day of reading facebook posts about the marches around the world, i did feel i wanted to be there. my mood lifted. seeing the solidarity. seeing the positive feelings. feeling the lift of potential darkness. glimpsing hope.

i realized one thing. i do march every day. i live my life the way i want the world to change. i truly do. i am marching every day. raising four white kids (three of whom are boys) to understand that all people are equal and all people deserve rights and respect. raising four children to honor the earth and live a low-impact lifestyle. teaching them to work with the environment to grow their own food. i can’t list everything i do right now…my mind doesn’t work like that–i will think of more later when i am doing something else. (i will eloquently explain what i am trying to express now later…in my own head…as i do yoga or dishes.)

i am marching every day. and i will continue to march. always. i will always be marching for women. for people of color. for lgbtq people. for the disabled. for the environment. for anyone who isn’t being listened to and honored. i will be marching.

too tired to draw

i didn’t sleep at all last night. i have so much anxiety & restless brain syndrome. i lay awake wondering what i would do if i came across bullying/intolerance/hate crimes…i was playing it out in my head all night. the different scenarios. the different profound things i would say to turn them around and allow them to see the error of their ways.
i did that all night long. seriously. and if i did fall asleep, one of my kids would make sure i didn’t stay there long.

i am exhausted.

and so much anxiety! i had to leave the house today for the first time since tuesday. i live in a very small-town…very rural area. this area is historically referred to as a “sundown” area. a place for people of color to avoid when the sun went down.

i am white. very white. but i am also weird. partially shaved head, pierced nose, tattoos of pagan fertility symbols. i dress in mostly black skirts with striped socks and boots. i don’t look “straight.” i grew up here. i was bullied for being different. so, yeah, i was anxious about going out now that our president-elect has set loose the white supremacists & bigots of the country.

nothing happened. i was okay. i am told i put off a “don’t fuck with me” vibe.
i am also told i have an amazing smile.
i use both those things as weapons of protection.

nevertheless, anxiety & lack of sleep have me barely able to function.

i don’t think i can draw.

i just want to go watch indiana jones & the temple of doom with my kids & then go to bed.

but i promised i would do something every day. so here are four ink stains i prepared (last night) to be used during the next four days. i did not get to any of them today–as said. but i did find a koala bear in one that i am fairly excited about. i have never drawn a koala bear. maybe i will doodle later…but hopefully i will sleep instead of trying to figure out how to save the world.

i did ink stains for fidgit & iggy as well. or, i helped them. iggy did most of the work. they did work on theirs today. iggy says he has more to do (pink one.) fidgit says his is a picture of the big fish coming to the place in the ocean where the little fish clean them off. a real thing, apparently, and these are sharks, etc. that would be found in such a place. he apologized for some of it being inaccurate due to working with the stain, and i told him, “no sweat, i gave a narwhal a unicorn horn instead of a tusk.”
fidgit has taught me a lot about undersea life and inspired many of my drawings of the such.