confusion perfume page three

comic from the 90s…a bit of creative non-fiction (page one of two)

stolen & fetish

in addition to working on a collaboration
with benjamin davis
of his story fetish
an illustration i am doing
using my bamboo pen & ink brush

i am working on turning part of me
into a fiction story
a lot like i did
(am doing)
with “fallen”
the story of a 40ish mother who realizes
she is the devil
“stolen”
is a realization
of a past
life
experience

done in my art journal like my other pages
like my other
self-portraits
but different in that one day
it will be a full-length story.
i am pretty excited about it
though as i am inking yet another treasure map
while my fetish pages dry
i realize i have a lot
going on
and expect myself to totally keep up
with all my projects

and i wonder…what makes me think
i can do all this?
who is that
part of me?

(a dollar a dance…i mean, a dollar a month, gets you full page access to these projects and my undying love. yes, a mere dollar a month. that’s like 3 cents a day. surely i am worth 3 cents a day….)

fallen XIV

it always seems
i am looking
at myself
from a place
other than
me
taking notes
making
observations
i am my own diane fossey
studying
the mountain gorillas
of my mind
i am always
removed…
maybe
i need
to come down
off
my mountain
&
get
dirty
with my human
self.

i am turning myself into a work of fiction for my fallen series. this is an interesting development for me. i mean, it’s me…but on a fictional level. i am sure other writers are familiar with this. becoming their own characters. being a character…as well as the creator. this isn’t the first time, of course. all my life i have been a character in my own story.
okay, several characters, depending on which voice is narrating.
the fallen series is just a new flavor for me…(new flavor of me?)
i like it.

fallen VIII

it isn’t all fun & games
when you’re
the devil
when your darkness
oozes & embraces
for one thing
you can feel
all the pain
in the world
you feel it
so intensely
& you no longer know
how to need
you long to feel
human
but you shut down your
humanity
you had to
in order to not collapse
under all the
torment
you can still feel
the desperate
lonely
your own desperate
lonely
but you cannot convince yourself
to
need
the antidote
is need
you need to let yourself need
but
you
can’t
you
won’t
for you to need
is a dangerous thing
that will rip open
too
many
wounds.

i am exploring need in my working the healing wheel. i have realized that i do not let myself need anyone. if you ask me, i will state, “i do not need anyone.”
and in my head, this is true. there is an exit strategy in case of loss. for everyone i know, i have instilled an exit strategy in case i lose them.
i suppose there is something deeply wrong with me
that i refuse to need anyone.
so, weirdly enough, i have realized that i need to learn to need…but i have no idea how to do that.

little bits of me

i have determined that i am
unable
unwilling
to sell myself
henceforth
you can have my pretty pictures
i merely ask
you give me what you believe
a piece of my soul
is worth

sunflower me

i have recently decided
that it is enough
that i find
myself
hugely entertaining.

it is probably for the best
that i find myself
to be a hoot.
and that i love my own
art

i might be
unpopular
but i am me.
i am i am i am
i really really am

and i love that about myself.

 

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