sustained on rejection

am i sustained by
rejection
like a panda
surrounded
by bamboo…did rejection
become my staple
& now
now that the bamboo
is scarce
do i actively seek
rejection
lumbering
past greener pastures
to find my
desolate
patch
of bitter rejection
where i can sit
uncomfortably
& gorge myself
on defeat?

one of the problems with not always being able to illustrate my thoughts as i write them (this one was written 10 days ago & i am just getting to it) is that i do not always remember what sparked my free verse ramblings.

my childhood was a big pot of rejection. out of six kids, i was nobody’s favorite. my younger sister (closest in age to me) was mortified by me & even suggested i do myself in. my peers at school actively avoided me. i was charlie brown on valentine’s day. i eventually had to go to a neighboring town to find a boy strange enough to kiss me.

so…did rejection become a familiar “friend” that i sought out as my adult life began? seeking out the boys who didn’t want me. focusing on them. throwing myself, relentlessly, at them. sending out stories to publishers without first attaining the necessary writing skills. staying on the fringes. watching, but never joining.

do i still seek out rejection? will i ever stop expecting rejection? will i ever believe i am good enough that i will not be rejected? has it become a self-fulfilling prophesy that keeps me exactly where i am?

just some musings as i wait to be rejected by a publisher & an art award…not even entertaining the idea of dating because–look at me–who the fuck would want this?

the other day i read my tarot cards. they told me that i need to learn to like myself. they told me to stop obstructing myself. to stop living in fear of moving forward.
but…i am not sure i know how to do that.
they never tell me how to do it.

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weighing my heart to find my worth

so i ordered a painting from an artist i adore on instagram
she paints portraits of women from 1950s yearbooks 
but adds bruises & blood to their smiling faces
the piece i bought 
however
was a watercolor heart and a parrot
a very small piece
i did not realize how small until it arrived
but i did not regret the money i spent
because the painting makes me happy
& she included an additional small painting 
of a hawk
& she is a wonderful artist
with a unique eye

two days after i paid $45 for  her 3″x 3″ painting, i sold 10 of my sea creature cards for just $5 a card. 
granted, i sold them to a friend & had not agreed on a price before hand. 
but, i realized
i am totally worth more.

my kids yelled at me when i told them how much i paid for the watercolor–not because i spent money that we do not have on art–but because i am not asking for more for my own art. 

my problem is, i think i am worth the world, but i fear no one else feels that way.
which makes pricing my art, my creations, that much more difficult. 

in other news, my newest muse called for a squid to be added to my collection of sea creatures. 
i was skeptical. as much as i love squid they just remind me of penises (maybe that is why i love squid)
but i am totally in love with how this turned out.  

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