tumbling down

i have lived my life
like falling down
a flight
of stairs
except
of course
i was totally pushed
or
at least
tripped
before i fell into my own life
half-assed
&
so totally
not
paying attention
hitting each step
as i fell
(i’m picturing one of those
circular, iron
staircases
you know
one with lots & lots & lots
of unyielding steps)
now i am
sprawled
at the bottom
of my own
life
…fuck it
time to get up
i guess.

so i was living in madison, wisconsin, attending UW madison, studying art & writing. i was pretty happy…except dusty didn’t like to work & did like to have girlfriends on the side.
i was having trouble affording rent in madison…and was losing myself to my fucked up relationship with dusty.
i told dusty he could choose between his girlfriend & me, the mother of his children & his supposed soul mate.
i told him i would leave madison if he did not choose me.
he did not choose me.
so as 2015 ended & 2016 began, i packed up the minions & moved 2 hours north to rent from a friend in manitowoc, wisconsin. there i started to get involved with the grocery co-op they were starting as well as getting involved in the local farm to school program & the local community garden. i felt like i was finally finding the community i wanted to be in.
six months in, after learning that my parent’s place was available to me, my “friend” kicked me out of her house. i still don’t know why. but dusty (who since i had left him all of a sudden decided to choose me) was on board with moving to illinois and had me convinced that the end of times was coming with the 2016 election. did i want to homestead–or was it a reaction to an unstable economy & society? a paranoia that dusty fed every chance he got….
did i want to move to rural illinois…or did dusty? he came with me and lived here for six months before i kicked him out.

now i’m here alone with a yard full of animals that cost more than they benefit…with a house that is too much for me to care for…with no support system or community in sight….

and i’m pissed off.
i thought i was doing what i wanted to do, but looking back, i think i did what i had to do as well as what other people wanted me to do.
and i’m pissed off.

i know that i can live like this if i have to (butchering my own meat & raising livestock.) and i do want to continue with living sustainably and continue growing my own food, but i was doing that when i lived in town & had access to a community. i don’t have to isolate myself to bumfuck illinois to do that.

crap.
dusty always was good at covertly isolating me. now i’m locked in some fucking tower waiting for him to rescue me?
fuck that bullshit.
i’m building a ladder.

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eclectic quixotic mama

i’m going to be the only blog
where someone makes art
talks about said art
draws & writes comics
art journals
memoirs
& ink blot compositions
writes poorly constructed poetry
denies it is poetry at all
tells you her dreams
and analyzes those dreams for you
shares her tarot readings
and other pagan witchy rituals
talks about homesteading
sustainability & low-impact lifestyles
trying to be a locavore
gardening
bees
goats, sheep, ducks, chickens, & geese
maybe turkeys too
and parenting
and depression
anxiety
and other demons perching on one’s psyche
isolation & life as a pariah
horrible relationships
betrayal
emotional abuse
toxic parents
also randomly volunteering recipes
& book reviews
while begging someone to talk to her
or at least to marry her
and she may or may not
mentionĀ  her menstrual cup
and how that is working out….

this is my solemn vow to you, dear reader. also, i challenge you to find another blog that offers you all that. and if you do know one, get me in touch with them so i can run away with them & we can be red-headed pirates together.

(i decided just today that i want to be a red-headed pirate…so my to-do list is to become a redhead & then become a pirate.)

speaking of dreams. i have been having crazy-ass dreams. i’m not sure what’s going on there. and i keep making out with dusty in my dreams and then waking up all pissed off. i need to figure out why i am having those dreams…and remember what fish mean in my dreams. i used to know, but i seem to have forgotten, and now i am having fish dreams like crazy.

also, i just put in a kencove fence to make more pasture because i am not sure i have enough hay for my ruminants. it occurred to me, just recently, that i could actually buy hay in the summer and store it for winter. however, i did not do that and now everyone is running low on hay (or have already sold it to someone else) due to the cold, snowy winter.
but the day was warm & pretty, and i put up this SO EASY to put up temporary electric fence. so now i have a third pasture. yay! and dreams of getting more so i can pasture in another chunk of yard where weeds & canada thistle have gone crazy mad.

plus i am working on a comic about a chicken who died this winter.
yes…a dead chicken comic.
it’s gonna be good.

stay tuned.

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….

littlevoices3

but!
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!

littlevoices2

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.

littlevoices1

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:

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