squatting in the driftless region

i do trust the universe to send me
where i need
to go
& here i am
experiencing something
i always wanted to experience
wild
feral
me.

cataclysmic (or that’s how it feels anyway)

yesterday the olde english faire got rained out & we didn’t get to see jousting or birds of prey or raunchy pirate shows. i was so looking forward to losing myself in the festival for a day. instead i spent the day waiting for the rain to stop.

except yesterday was the longest day of the year & it rained & rained & rained some more.

and with the impending status of being “between homes” the minions are losing their little minds & my skin is crawling off of me to just stay sane enough to deal with their excited & agitated energy.

now i just feel weepy & like drinking away my sorrows while binge-watching marvel shows on netflix.

so i’m not getting much art & writing done at all…but i did do this goof-off inking of cats.

not really cataclysmic, i guess…but it does make one wonder why so many words like “cataclysmic,” “catatonic,” & “catastrophe” start with “cat”…hmmm….

for more of a dog person’s thoughts on cats (just kidding my page in non-partisan) check out what’s going on on my patreon page for just a dollar a month:

the next chapter

this is the rough draft for the cover of my collection of short stories. funny thing, after i did the initial inking, i decided to go back in & give my cover face a crown of thorns (because so many of my characters are martyrs)…as i inked her a crown of thorns, nine inch nail’s cover of the johnny cash song “hurt” came on my pandora mix.
kismit anyone?

other big news. i found a place to live!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! not iowa, but wisconsin. closer to friends & family & a support system & a future in working with intentional communities & rights of nature, etc.
so–yay! here is a photo of my new neighbors….

also, i finished my sixth journal of my self-portrait series.

i am officially taking a break from self-portraits to work on other projects. i have been playing with my style and really liking what i am doing. here are some sneak peaks from my patreon page….

one of these faces is not like the others (as i end my self-portrait series & begin the next journal)

finally, i started working on my next collaboration with benjamin davis. here is a sneak peek of that….

fair to middlin’

to quote myself over on my patreon page:

my shadows are part of who i am. without those dark spots, you wouldn’t be able to see my bright colors & beautiful light…. without my dark bits, i think life would be much more dull.

i am still creating over there, should you want to do the dollar a dance to see what i’m up to.
here’s a sneak peek:

meanwhile.
i’m doing okay-ish. i keep crying & wondering why i am so sad & then remembering the folks in new zealand & then crying some more.

i feel like i am on a cusp…but i often feel that way. maybe i just live on the cusp.

& i updated my profile picture. i love the old one (from spring of ’16) but always felt weird posting serious comments with a laughing face. i know it shouldn’t bother me, dark & light & bright & shadows and all that…. one of the reasons i liked my old profile picture is that it was one of me with my hair down–as it was taken in the morning (i often wear a tiara first thing in the morning) before i got pissed off at my unruly hair & tied it back. but lately, i’ve been wearing my hair down…my own little attempt to embrace the wildness that is me. to stop tying myself back. so here’s a picture of that.

one day my smile will return. i just know it. being on the cusp & all….



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….)

checking in

i have been working on getting my patreon page up & running. i have posted several times for my patrons.
i totally have two patrons!!! yay!!!

i was thinking. for those of you who are as poor as me. if you have a way to do trade, i would totally do that. like i be your patron & you be mine? something like that…i’m trying to figure out a way to be accessible while also making some income.
it’s just a boost to know someone thinks my arts, writings, and random ramblings are worth anything.
it’s nice.

also! i am applying for the sustainable arts award for mother writers & mother artists. it’s a nice award, and the best part is how much i realize i value myself when i fill out the application telling them who i am.

meanwhile, i have gotten to second base with my goat magdalene. she is producing lots of milk which i share with her kid, claudia. claudia gets one teat, i take the other. so i have fresh goat’s milk for my tea.

in other news, i had a weird thing happen last week which i am just getting to in my art journal.
an epiphany? a moment of enlightenment? a breakthrough?

at the very least, a new story, similar to “fallen” in being a fictionalized telling of something real to me–this time about my most formative past life.
so…become a patron & you can hear all about that.

or, just talk to me on google hangouts, & i’ll tell you all about it.

here are some teasers for my patron page:

including a journal page about my little voices and one about my imbolc meditation on longing (for my work on the healing wheel.)
and two pages of illustrations for a collaboration i am doing with benjamin davis on his story fetish.

the image is based on my childhood memory of making my first ever comic series on a chalkboard in my basement. a version of “hey diddle diddle” where the members of the nursery rhyme were some sort of soap opera.

doodles

i have written eight art journal pages since last night
eight art journal pages in my new journal
but i have yet to draw me…
i am having a bit of a creep day
(radiohead would understand)
and drawing requires
a more delicate touch
or maybe i will just go with the thick
black
angry
lines
that are bound to happen when
inking while angsty….
however
the drawings will come
as i have decided
one
cannot
do
too many self-portraits.
so stay tuned, my lovelies….

some doodles for those of you who think i’m a one trick pony…haha…i got lots of tricks…i am a tricksey hobbit.

to do list for the week of no minions:
illustrations for another writer’s work
pages of moses jones
self-portrait art journal pages
the invisible exhibitionist
chasing ghosts
maps! maps! maps!

see? very tricksey

birthday greetings & other inkings

so i tried to order my big sister (aka surrogate mom) a birthday basket from harry & david. twice. but both times they couldn’t–for some unknown reason–process the order.
so i went to godiva…where there is a $10 shipping fee.
so over to wine country…where nothing i wanted was available until the 19th of february.
fuck it, i said. i will make my own fucking fancy basket.
complete with a hand painted inking of some marvelous sea life.

meanwhile, i spent some time scanning maps &–because someone on tumblr said my style was “archaic greek” i looked at some artwork from that there time period.
which inspired some doodling.

meanwhile, misha was begging me to draw her a phoenix from her fantastic creature book.
i misunderstood & painted this.

but she said, “no.” she wanted to color it. so i drew this for her.

and she spent the morning coloring it.

i am thinking i might have a future in illustrating some fantastic beast coloring books.

half-assed theories & no plans for thanksgiving

i have just finished reading two different suspense novels that were suspenseful…but so so so fucking badly written. one was a writer who apparently has written dozens of books & won awards. has she just gotten lazy? or have readers become lazy & writers aren’t trying? or is the market just saturated with bad writers and it is difficult to find a well-written novel these days?

fuck a duck.
i need to write a book. no, i’m not a great writer, but i can write decent dialogue, goddammit. i have read a few blogs on here where there is brilliant dialogue. i don’t think someone who writes crappy dialogue should be given awards & book deals. but that’s just me.

i have mentioned a couple times that in my teens & early twenties i wrote a half a dozen books or so. none are published.
and then i quit writing books–when i should have kept writing & tried to get better.
why did i quit?
i just lost the ability.
and got distracted by men.
this all happened around the time that i met & became good friends with paul tobin. so it is now my working theory that not only men i dated took the best pieces of me but also men i was friends with.
paul tobin stole my writer’s soul.
when i met him he only wrote comics & semi-autobiographical short stories. he was all envious of my ability to pump out full length fiction. he would ask me all kinds of questions. after becoming friends with me he was writing novels, & i could only come up with short fiction & semi-autobiographical comics…. and he never took me seriously…even though i went to  him for advice on comics & writing. he just treated me like a bimbo & then took off with my novel-writing abilities. these days he will barely return an email. he got what he wanted.
it’s a theory.
what else could it be?

so how do i get my novel-writing soul back?  of course…my novel will have pictures, as all should. who’s idea was it to take all the pictures out of books for grown ups? as if.

and it is thanksgiving. i waited. i received no invitations. maybe i was supposed to invite people here? i’m better at being a guest than a host. trust me.

i could butcher a couple of ducks. i mean, too many males…& y’all can guess how i am feeling about males these days….

okay.
i don’t like thanksgiving. i don’t. you know, alcoholic father…bitter mother…november in illinois.
then i married two different men who’s extended families were not drinkers.
a dry thanksgiving? are you mad???

anyhoo. 
i will be doing art, working on my soon-to-be-best-selling novel (with pictures) & watching the incredibles 2 (which i have only been waiting like 13 years to see) and maybe some reruns of remington steele & moonlighting as i am now convinced that they were instrumental in allowing me to release my innate feminism while living in a catholic (aka women-hating) small town (aka women-hating) farm family…so i’m thinking my boys would benefit.

wow.
i think the flavor of the day is bitter.
with traces of sweet…there is always sweet
you just have to get past the bitter & will find my sweet.

 

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