i emerge from my cocoon
but not
i crawl back inside
to try again
like a morning glory
opening again
trying to get it right
figuring out
that like the bumper sticker
it’s the journey
not the destination.

these are more thoughts while reading mark manson’s the subtle art of not giving a fuck.

if you read my birth chart, you will see that scorpio risings crave transformation. so maybe i have my astrological fortune to thank for the ease with which i ask myself “why”
& search for answers to the questions that apparently many people do not?
i can’t let a sleeping dog lie in my psyche. i have to poke it. i have to rummage through the grey stuff in my head until i understand why i am doing what i am doing.
& i like this about me.
it keeps things interesting.
my neverending story

change is good.

so most of my art journal is about struggle
moving forward
it is something i obviously feel strongly about
if you are unhappy
you need to either accept
or change
and i am just not that good at accepting
the unacceptable
so i struggle
forward (on good days)
backwards (on bad days)
& sometimes i’m just moving in circles…

but change is good
so here is what i am going to try now. instead of finishing and posting my art journal pages, i will be posting finished versions of said pages which will be for sale. i am still art journaling like mad…i just have stopped inking/finishing the pages in my journal. instead, i use them as ways to get those demons moving about and then i use them again to make finished pieces of art. so now my art journal is looking more like this:

maybe i’m trying to conserve ink? maybe i’m just unmotivated? maybe i’ve inked so much that i no longer need to ink the roughs? like i kinda know what i’m doing?
but fret not! i will continue posting finished pieces with random thoughts.

“for this moment” 9X12 ink on watercolor paper…$45



change is as startling
as a volcano
a tornado
changing the landscape of your life
so drastically
change is as gentle
as invisible
as a single leaf
maybe you notice
or maybe
one day
you wake up & realize
the trees are all a different
& the air is no longer

deep thoughts on change. one of my favorite topics. transformation. will it knock you down? or will it happen as subtly as a dream you can’t quite remember?
i was expecting a volcano…but i find myself watching the falling leaves & realizing everything is suddenly different.


i am more powerful
than i know
i am not as deeply flawed
as i tell myself
no matter
how long it takes

i wrote the first part of this on the 25th of august. i finished it just a couple of days ago when i inked the illustration. i have been up & down in the meantime.
this is a pep talk, i think. as i struggle to think of myself as a good person.
and my thought today is that transformation can be as big as a volcano, but it can also be as subtle as a leaf falling.


when you grow up broken
how do you learn to feel
when you grow up without
how do you learn to be

this thought was prompted by watching the second season of the end of the f***ing world (a very good netflix show.)

of course it is a thought that made a lot of sense to me. i wonder…do i even know what love feels like? my tarot cards are telling me of relationships…of moving past being injured to value myself & allow myself to be valued. but what does that look like?
do you think i can draw a picture of that?

free flying

so many times
of my angel & demon
for the dominant
my thinking
i’m a terrible person
when i let my
fly free
i find myself

maybe my demon
have the reins
maybe my demon

i am not sure my demon knows best. some pretty dark thoughts have rattled around in my head these past few days. long story short, demons & motherhood are a dangerous mix….
but i do value my demons. i always have. they have some great ideas & give my life so much texture & color!
they do get me in trouble…but now i find myself wondering if that is so bad. maybe creating a little trouble is a good thing. shaking things up. maybe if i didn’t fear the opinions of others & worry that i am upsetting someone or another….
yup. still doing the dance of finding balance. of finding me.


maybe the trick
is just
keeping the energy vampires
at bay
after a life spent
being sucked
live a full life
a happy life
while they all go
fuck themselves.

i was inking this & was all like–a dodo bird! i have been inking all of these “guide” animals & have not even done one of my favorites…the dodo bird!
so i am totally trying to figure out where i fit in & who i am…this involves digging around through all the things i thought i knew about myself & about life…. it’s a bit exhausting.
i really don’t like falling prey to energy vampires, but it seems whenever i go out into society, i immediately get sucked dry by them.
so do i just not go out into society anymore? or do i make myself a nice garlic suit? or a combination of the two?

inez malstom

being the embodiment of earthly punishments
used to bother
inez malstrom
but now she gets a slight high
just thinking of it
a case of the giggles even
she thinks it would be nice
for once
to be an earthly reward…
but that is probably reserved for someone named

i have written so many beginnings to stories. you never know. i might finish it…turn it into a comic, a short story, or even a novel, but for now it lives as a journal page.

i think i recently read in a book a quote by a poet to the effect of: i write instead of screaming
for the life of me i cannot access where i read this. i have been reading a lot of books lately.
nevertheless–this is true for me. my writing & my art are what i do to keep from losing my mind. so i take these dark little thoughts and try to make something beautiful (?) out of them…or at least something interesting.


how many times
will i be deeply
how many times
can i
be deeply wounded
before i
turn into a pile
of rubble
or maybe i will
that meme worthy vase
that grows stronger
with each break
& each

i do not have internet at my house & was unable to google what that vase is called.
now, upon googling it, i find it is actually a bowl & is called the art of precious scars: kintsugi
the art of precious scars
my scars are precious…to me…& apparently i like to show them off to you….

okay. so speaking of my precious scars scars & how i express my wounds through art & writing….
i need to figure out how to make money or how to attract patrons to my work aka promote myself (i’m sure i’m not the only one)
i am running out of savings. my house still needs a heating system. & i loathe the idea of just getting a “job.” i tend to wither away working in most environments (i am a fucking delicate flower, y’all)
i do not need luxuries–i do not own a tv. internet. smart phone. lawn mower. refrigerator. washer. dryer. or a number of other “luxuries.”
i am totally okay with not making a lot of money…but i do need some income. you know, for like heat & food?
so how do i make money without compromising myself…&/or how do i become more (shudder) marketable?

feel free to talk amongst yourselves….

(if you read yesterday’s post, i referenced my spilling of blue ink…this is the one i was working on while holding an open jar of blue ink…oops)


change comes from within
no one
can change me
just like i cannot
change them
i am not going
to change a world
that is only interested
in changing me
some sort of
& all i can do
is walk away
from the game.

more thoughts from my most recent breakdown/breakthrough…funny how those two things happen back to back. breakdown…breakthrough….

two thoughts on this inking.
1) what is my deal with sweaters?
2) i was working on the page opposite this one–absentmindedly holding an open jar of blue ink–& just forgot i had open ink in my hand. drips galore.

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