value impaired

i don’t value myself.
why don’t i value myself?
how do i learn to value myself?

case in point. yesterday i realized i had no idea where i had left the box full of my books i have available for sale should someone want an autographed copy.
i searched for over an hour, wondering what the fuck is wrong with me.
i eventually found the box being used to prop up my daughter’s doll house.
nice.
so how do i learn to value myself? why do i continue to make myself the lowest priority? the last person i will support?
fuck me.
(wait! don’t fuck me–be nice to me! believe in me, goddammit)

pretty picture

pretty picture
they say
how much?
i tell them
& they walk away
&
i spin
am i asking
too much?
sure
ink is cheap
paper too
but
i put so much of myself
in every
inking
years & years
of trying
of failing
of hurting
of growing
of figuring shit out
pretty lady
they say
what are you worth?
any price
i put on me
is going to be
too much
just
walk away.

i have now a diminished idea of what my inkings are worth. so if you want some, now would be the time to buy!
conversely, i now have the highest self-esteem i have ever had since childhood. did i have self-esteem in childhood? i can’t remember for sure. i mean, sometimes i can’t tell the difference between self-esteem & just not giving a fuck.

last day of inktober.

tomorrow starts nanowrime & my first year ever doing it.

everything must go

cut me down
to size
marked off
everything
must
go
when i realize
i am worth
far less
(far far less)
than i thought
i was
it is weird
to think
i valued myself
more
(far far more)
than the rest of the world
values
me
&
here i thought
things couldn’t get
worse.

this was my pull me down to earth (wasn’t i already there, buried in fact?) thought when i had to re-price my art to a lower asking price at the physical site as well as on my etsy site and at my art exhibit. i thought i was under-pricing my art. turns out i am worth even less than i originally thought. it’s a sobering thought…. but supply & demand & all that….

sigh.

so i am not making any new pieces to sell. instead i am focusing on other projects, including doing nanowrimo for the first time ever.

so maybe it was the push i needed?
(lemons & lemonade & all that)

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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