super-fine art sale

help me get back on my feet 🙂
i am appealing to anyone who has any interest in my art.
below are some sale items, there is also stuff over on my “love for sale” page
& i am always happy to do commissions or something based off on of my journal pages, etc.

9X12 for $30
8×10 for $25
plus $2.50 for shipping within the U.S.

email me at quixoticmama@gmail.com with serious offers. be advised, until my knee heals (approximately september 6th), i am only able to check my email like once a week so shipping will be a little slow. once i have confirmed availability, you can send the money via paypal or check/cash.

thank you for your support!

super-fine art sale

help me get back on my feet 🙂
i am appealing to anyone who has any interest in my art.
below are some sale items, there is also stuff over on my “love for sale” page
& i am always happy to do commissions or something based off on of my journal pages, etc.

9X12 for $30
8×10 for $25
plus $2.50 for shipping within the U.S.

email me at quixoticmama@gmail.com with serious offers. be advised, until my knee heals (approximately september 6th), i am only able to check my email like once a week so shipping will be a little slow. once i have confirmed availability, you can send the money via paypal or check/cash.

thank you for your support!

out with the old; in with the new

i’m trying not to be sad
today
i’m trying not to lose my mind
today
i feel music in my soul
today
not quite drowned out
by the screaming
crying
sometimes playing
sometimes fighting
children
my artist’s soul
& my mother’s heart
trying to live together
in my troubled
self.

october 26, 2016 is the date inside my old journal. the day i started it. today is the day i end it. there is one page left…but i have already spilled some angst onto it and now just have to illustrate my own pain.

the first page of the new journal, also, is already decorated with thoughts fallen from my head.

i love being productive. i love looking forward to a blank page. i love writing down my silly, sad, sentimental, and sordid epiphanies to ponder with pen & ink brush.

ha.
i am not a poet though.
i thought that today when i could not think of the word for what some of you might call my “poems.”
i am not a poet.
i just vomit emotion, often & as colorfully as possible.

narcoleptic woodpecker

i have whole files full of one line–one paragraph–one page stories. whole journals full of incomplete thoughts and epiphanies. are you ready? i’m going to make them all into comics. maybe. if you’re lucky. turn them all into visual art. use what i have learned in my ink blot tests. use what i have learned in my comic making. use my whimsy and my darkness.

are you ready?

it’s the next step of my metamorphosis. changing and staying the same.

i got a lot done today as i am off of facebook forever…again. i worked on art files & writing files. i had to move all of my stories to google docs because my microsoft word expired and i am one broke-ass mama.
really.
i have no money.
i am living off of credit cards wondering if my ex will ever send me child support. probably not. when the kids stayed the week with him, he sent all their dirty laundry home with me because he didn’t want to use his mom’s detergent as i might not like it.
um…?
so i nicely suggested he buy his own laundry detergent.
i was nice about it.
really, i was. i am working very hard on not being aggressive…passive-aggressive–reactionary…any of those things that kept me in that same destructive cycle with him. i am being a model of cool, calm, & collected.
(that was what it said under my dad’s yearbook picture. my dad, destined to be a violent alcoholic…cool, calm, and collected. so…maybe i will have to work really hard on it as my example of cool, calm, and collected is a bit skewed….)

but i wasn’t so cool, calm, and collected with my kids. i had a screaming fit that scared the crap out of them. what’s the good of not being physically violent with my kids if i am going to lose my mind & scar them accordingly?
“i am losing my mind!” my three year old will say to me.
right.
i always love when they model my bad behavior right back at me.
i have a long way to go on being a sane parent. sometimes i cry, wondering if i would have been a good mom if i had had a supportive husband. if i had had loving parents of my own. if i hadn’t of been broken so severely and completely and eternally.

baby steps.
until i run out of time.

narc2

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