year of the dog

when last we left off with our hero, she was slaying zombies in the forest while foraging for supplies….
actually, i started a new episode after this called “the return of dusty.” but it puttered out.
i have been trying to get it re-started…but i really don’t think i want dusty in my story anymore. i think it is time to write dusty out of the script.

which i did, last night. i have yet to draw it though.

meanwhile, the real dusty is threatening to come visit. i am torn. while i wish i lived in a world where i never had to see him or his hell-spawn of a mother again…i also hate the idea of my minions going away to wisconsin again to spend a week with him & his hell-spawn of a mother again.
it is one of those things i have severe anxiety/control issues about. i mean i became a stay-at-home mom when i realized i could not leave my child at home. instead i was taking baby fidgit with me when i went out to pick up stray animals. he was sitting in on dog evaluations with me at the humane society where i was employed when he was born.
realizing i could not leave him, i quit my job.

i know i cannot control their lives. it just seems dumb to let him take them to wisconsin when he doesn’t even know what the fuck he is doing with his life.
he is taking my minions to live in his limbo.
it just seems dumb.

so my choices are to let them go…or deal with dusty in my space.

fuck a duck.

so i am currently trying to figure out which hurts less….

in other news. i am having a crisis of faith with my art.
i guess that’s not really news….
today i tried to read a comic book & found i could not. comic books seem dumb to me now. maybe not all of them, but definitely the mainstream ones.
i tried to post my page that i made yesterday (archangel carl) on a facebook group called “women creating comics” along with my lament about my crisis of faith…but as soon as someone started suggesting things i could do to make my art more “acceptable” to the comic world, i deleted my post & almost quit the group.

what would van gogh do?


oh! i almost forgot! (thank goodness for blog titles)
so we recently entered year of the dog. i was born in the year of the dog. i looked back, and other than my 12th year, i could remember having a life changing event in every year of the dog since my birth. maybe there was one when i was 12 too–i just can’t remember for sure. in retrospect, every decision i made in my years of the dog were the wrong ones.

so this year
this year
i am determined to get it right.
to be true to myself and to stay true to my path.
whatever it may be.

so with the first full moon of this lunar year…i am struggling to find the path that i have determined i should stick to….
wish me luck.



my anxiety writes a poem

if my oldest son
never comes home
i will have to take his homemade ship
to the river myself
to launch it
after so many times of telling him,
“no, not today…”
i will have run out of days to spend
with him
maybe i will set it on fire
have a viking funeral
as i wish he would come home
if my second son
never comes home
i will never be able to return the movie
we are supposed to watch together
i will have to keep it
and pay the library
for it
knowing i could buy a cheaper copy
i will never let go
of the movie we were supposed to watch
as i wait for him to come home
if my daughter never comes home
i will build a shrine of
barbie dolls
and tutus
i will sit and sing to myself
surrounded by her special things
i will wish i could hear her
speak words
have a conversation with me
just once
just once
as i hope for her to come home
if my youngest son never comes home
i will die inside
knowing i wasn’t the mother to him
that he needed me to be
knowing that i failed him
from the beginning
and the only way i can save him
is to save myself
and bring him home to me

sometimes when my kids go to visit their dad, i go to a special hell reserved for moms. sometimes i breathe and relax and enjoy my alone time. other times i climb the walls and let the demons chisel at my thoughts.

i didn’t intend to be a stay-at-home mom. however, when it came time for me to go back to work after fidgit was born, i found i couldn’t do it. at first i tried taking him to work with me, which was strangely tolerated. but i realized i was doing two jobs half-assedly and decided i needed to make a choice.
i chose being a mom.
and it has been a hard road. a very hard road. my ego has suffered a lot and sometimes i find myself wondering, “what if–” about my choice to be a mom at all. and then the catholic part of me kicks in and i live in fear that i have hexed my children with such thoughts.

being a mom is so fucking complicated.

i just want my kids to come home so i don’t have time to think about it.

my first beluga whale

so there was this open space in the upper right hand corner that kept me perplexed through quite a few episodes of offspring today.

(now i feel defensive about the fact that i am sitting in a chair zoning out to dramadies when maybe i should be doing something productive…or at least cleaning the fucking living room or scrubbing out the toilet that has some mystery staining going on…earning money towards my building debt? fuck. this all started when i became a stay at home mom…the feeling defensive if i’m not doing ten things at once. thinking someone is going to say something snide…well, okay, because the ex always did.
so now i am sitting on my ass crying over a tv show because they pointlessly killed off my favorite character.


so anyway. this blank spot. i found so many things on the left side of the paper and it was getting so lopsided. but all i  could see were more dragons and i just could not do another dragon inking. so i looked & looked & looked and then realized there could be something getting ready to dive into that pond there.

and that’s when i found my happy beluga whale.


i like this picture. it seems…happy-ish.

my dogs should come home tomorrow. from the vet. they are almost fully de-toxed. i don’t know how much it will cost, but i did manage to sell eleven prints in my first attempt to make money with my art. so that’s exciting.

and terrifying.

and i am terrified.

i might have a deep fear of happiness & success & being loved & being able to love…. i don’t feel worthy, i guess. like i’m too badly damaged to do the stuff that normal people do.


but i did this inking today. and started getting an order ready for printing….
maybe i should dress up & pretend i am someone else when i try to sell my art. that always worked when i used to wait tables…hmm. maybe i am on to something.