being a mom & being an artist. is there a compromise?
last night, preparing for a birthday party for iggy who is turning seven, i became very bitter towards dusty who pulled his usual disappearing act. i told him i was stressed out (as a rabid introvert, i hate hate hate throwing parties–but iggy loves people & parties & invited all of the neighbors over for cake today) and that i needed help. he became angry. he wanted to hang out with his brother. he complained about me under his breath all the way out the out the door and then took an hour and a half to tell his brother that he could not hang out with him after all. by that time, i had cleaned the apartment, wrapped presents, done the dishes, and blown up balloons. meanwhile, these half finished pages stared at me, silently, waiting. i feel like dusty gets to do whatever he wants, while i keep house & think about being an artist. dream about it. writing pages in my head as i nurse the baby….
i have page 30 & 31 rough drafted. i found it seems more time efficient to do more than one page at a time. i have page 32 thumbnail sketched. i am exploring the darker side of roommates & cooperative living. or, rather, the petty side. we get to see the ugly side of jake, and more of lucy defending moses jones. meanwhile, i have realized i really do not like susan (maybe that’s why i struggle with drawing her??) and that she might be modeled after a couple of spineless women i used to cooperatively live with–who would talk the big talk, but then stab you in the back. yay, cooperative living.
so i’m preparing for random people, most of whom i don’t even like, to invade my home & eat the homemade pizza, homemade ice cream cake, and homemade cherry lemonade i have slaved over in my neurotic urge to please people i don’t even care for–to be a good hostess even though i hate throwing parties….
ps. check out this sweet dragon tattoo iggy got for his birthday.