okay–so i was going to stick to one color with my initial practicing of ink & brush. but then i saw this picture of a squid and the colors were so amazing so i just had to fuck that up.
i once took a water color class, and there was this girl in it who could paint photo perfect watercolors. they were totally amazing and took her days & days to finish. i could do like 10 watercolors in the time she did one. more even. that’s me. that’s my style & my nature. i work fast & sloppy.
ironically, the piece of hers i liked the best, was one that was in disarray because it was not done yet–that’s the one i would have bought.
i mentioned that i am in a facebook inktober group–so my feed is full of inkings by other people. some are alright. some are crap. some are amazing. and i am all like, “i want mine to be amazing!!”
then i have to remind myself that my art is my art and has something of me to it–whether others think it is amazing or not.
plus, i think if i find other’s art inspiring, i should try to incorporate–aka “borrow”–aka “steal like an artist”–aspects that i find amazing.
but, one step at a time. right now i am challenging myself to work only in ink brush.
for a bit anyway.
fidgit is doing INKtober with me. i am posting his to the same group i am in. so far, he gets way more facebook likes than i do.
you know what? i am totally okay with that. i want him to be a better artist than me. i want him to have the encouragement & opportunities that i did not.
he is amazing.
if i were a dude
the brontes would write a book about me
but i’m a chick…so i just get ostracized
for my anger.
smile, it’s not so bad.
smile, you’re beautiful when you smile.
smile, don’t you know anger is pointless?
you mean, anger is not” feminine”
if i were a dude,
i could start a war with all this anger in me
and i would be lauded for my bravery &
but i’m a chick.
an angry chick.
and that is only cute for a minute or two
depending on how cute i am.
then it becomes something
you walk away from.
everyone walks away
is that why i am so pissed off?
they say i “drove them away.”
they say i “put up walls.”
but what if i was pushing
so that you would pull me closer?
what if i put up walls
so you would knock them down?
then i would know
you really loved me.
i don’t believe anyone has ever loved me.
i really don’t.
i don’t believe my parents loved me.
the hordes of boyfriends…yes, hordes,
because when you’re looking for someone
to love you
you look everywhere
but non of them loved me
my dogs don’t even love me.
and if they tried,
i gave them reason not to love me.
i joked that i had kids
so that someone would love me best.
now i wait for the day
they realize what an asshole i am
and stop loving me.
i’m a fucked up mess. i read about empaths being “light bringers” but all i feel inside of me is darkness. deep & black & oozing. darkness. i want to forsake everything and embrace the darkness inside of me. i don’t know why i feel this way. maybe the older i get the crazier i get. i never felt this deep & dark before dusty got a hold of me. i had my anger. i had my feelings of being lost & unlovable, but i never had this darkness in me until he showed me exactly how little i meant to him…. and now i struggle to get him out of my life–out of my house, and i feel like i have no control of the situation. for a person like me, a lack of control is like being buried alive.
so maybe the anger is the only thing i have right now.
(this drawing is a watercolor i did for a class when i was journaling about the topic of my choice. i chose to journal about me as a mother.)