while my children scream at me

i sneak away to my scanner….
since my camera is sad these days, i will try scanning more. since i have a home again, i will try scanning more.

i finally have the right ink in my pens. though this page was done before it occurred to me that i could dump the wrong ink out of my pen and refill it with the right ink. i was just trying to run it out by using my pen. my pen was not digging that and no amount of shaking or tapping was getting it to draw. so this journal page is a bit rough. also, i was using styles that aren’t mine. just for fun.

iggy called the bikini top “weed boob sacks”–ha!

i’m still reading amanda palmer’s book. i am tempted to contact her. maybe i will. she touts her own accessibility quite a lot in her book, however, i am new to the fan base…and i think i just rub people the wrong way–so i dread contacting her & being ignored. as she says in her book, social rejection hurts as much as physical pain. it does. plus, i realize that i may never be good at asking. as a child, i was ignored by my parents. the fourth of six, they just kinda forgot about me. they were pretty lackluster parents to begin with, and i was lost in the shuffle. instead of making a ruckus–like poppy does (i admire his 4th child technique of constantly demanding he get at least equal consideration, even though said technique exhausts me!)–instead of demanding attention–i decided to disappear. my feeling, even as a young child, was that if they weren’t going to give me the attention i deserved, i would not stoop to ask for it.

and i didn’t.

and now the art of asking is an art that i cannot grasp.

though i need to.

so how do i start interacting on a better level with my fan base? how do i reach out to people? how do i become human? these are the puzzles i occupy myself with these days. i hope to figure it out. being a successful artist & writer is important to me, but it may never happen if i do not learn how to interact with my audience.

ay fuck.

as for moses jones…my living room is still full of the wrong furniture & unpacked boxes. my desk sits amidst the mess, calling to me. hopefully, i will get the excess furniture & boxes out of the living room tonight so i can set up my desk & feel like myself again. and get some pages of mojo out to y’all. soon!

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Author: em4mighty

i'm a disaster at every type of relationship i enter into...except with my kids. i think i'm doing something right there...but it is difficult to tell sometimes, especially since i have a pretty crappy support system since support involves relationships. i am a pretty dark person with a weird sense of humor. i spend my non-mom time cooking, baking, planting, sprouting, experimenting, reading, writing, drawing, plotting, obsessing, and hiding. as a mom i am about as unconventional as i can get. i unschool my kids & give them a lot of freedom to be who they are. this does not help my popularity. but my kids are super cool. i love my kids.

1 thought on “while my children scream at me”

  1. Social rejection totally hurts just as much or more than real pain. At least real pain you know will heal, social rejection feels like this fearful pain that keeps coming back up to haunt you over and over again. Ok, now I’m sounding crazy… I don’t know about how to interact better with fans- still figuring that our myself!

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