changes

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
falling
maybe you notice
or maybe
one day
you wake up & realize
the trees are all a different
color
& the air is no longer
stifling.

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.

change

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

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.

broken

when you grow up broken
how do you learn to feel
whole?
when you grow up without
love
how do you learn to be
loved?

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
fighting
for the dominant
shoulder
my thinking
i’m a terrible person
when i let my
demon
fly free
…now
i find myself

thinking
“huh”
maybe my demon
should
have the reins
maybe my demon
knows
best.

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.

sucks

maybe the trick
is just
keeping the energy vampires
at bay
after a life spent
being sucked
dry
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
sometimes
she thinks it would be nice
for once
to be an earthly reward…
but that is probably reserved for someone named
jillian.

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.

rubble

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

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)
ack!
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)

stalemate

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
cosmic
stalemate
& 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.

the ruins

i have been living
in the ruins of me
picking through
the rubble
rebuilding walls
just to watch them
crumble
back down
stumbling around
my own disaster
hoping i will find the
blue print
needed
to rebuild…hiding
from the world
outside
feeling exposed
vulnerable
lost within my own
world
the world i made
the world i desperately
need
to
redesign.

more on my trying to figure out me. as i type this, i feel i am just as lost as ever. not focusing. but there are the kids & the house & the free store & an upcoming art show & everything else i am committed to & all i want to do when i get a free moment is sit & maybe have a beer & lose myself in a book.

becoming

who am i becoming?
so intent
on transformation
did i stop to think
what i would be
next
who i would be
now?
who do i want
to be?
i guess that
is the question
in becoming
i need to draw
a map
to the true me.

this is an ongoing thing. i am emerging from the trauma of having a birthday & am once again trying to move forward. i keep meaning to meditate on this…yup. that’s me, forgetting to meditate on who i am. that’s who i am…but is that who i want to be?

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