INKtober day twenty-eight–time

today is rough for me.
i keep staring at my facebook feed. watching all the horrific stories coming from standing rock and the water protectors who are fighting the pipeline and having their rights and their bodies trampled on…
sigh.
i feel it in my bones. people turning their backs. not looking. and my heart hurts.
how is this world going to get better if everyone pretends it isn’t happening? if everyone looks away? if everyone says it’s okay to treat people like this? treat the environment like this?
and then there is the impending u.s. election where it is vote for this monster or vote for this monster, but, by god, don’t vote for someone who isn’t a monster because then the wrong monster might get elected and it will be all. your. fault.

what if none of us voted for either of the monsters?
what if the u.s. finally broke down this bogus two party system that is morphing into a one party system.

the storm clouds gather.
i try to hold onto hope.
we have to hold onto hope.
there has to be a way out of this mess.

so i inked & inked & inked and kids jumped on me while i tried to ink and weird crap came out of my head and onto my paper and i couldn’t make my first picture work (titled: you are here)

youarehere

it’s a bit fucked up in many different ways. i don’t know where i was going with it. i never do. i just start moving my pen & see what happens. i think my second one, “time,” worked a little better…but i still feel like my brain is a puddle and i need to just…relax….

relax….

breathe deep and focus on a better tomorrow.

INKtober day twenty–eye just feel sad

so the thing about me is, i am an empath. i feel things deeper and more intuitively that a large percent of the population.
i have always known this about myself, but i am just figuring out how to embrace it as a good thing and to not let it destroy me.
being an empath makes it difficult for me to be around a lot of people. i can sense their anger, their sadness, their different energies.
it makes it difficult for me to work in positions where i care for others because i give too much of myself–but also helps me to be a good caregiver, if i could learn how to not cross that line.
it makes it difficult for me to be in relationships because i cannot keep my feelings separate from those of the other person. i am trying to learn boundaries and ways to protect myself…but i have a long way to go.
it makes it difficult for me to be a mom sometimes–sometimes it helps. when many small bodies need me to care all at the same time & i am prone to forgetting to listen to my own needs….

i get overwhelmed. so easily. by all the energy from all the people around me.

the more “bad” things i see or hear, the deeper it seems to go. so the internet is a treacherous place for people like me. though i want to know about wrongs being done–so i can help–if i can help…it is draining.

this election is a goddamned nightmare for me. both major party candidates are bad people. i know this on an intuitive level and on an educated level. one seems much worse than the other. i feel like a vote for that one is a vote against people like me. however, i will not vote for the lesser of two evils, that would be giving up on hope.  i wish that everyone would actually vote for better candidates (there are other candidates) and send these two to the hell they deserve….

but! i digress.

this is not a political blog.

i just wanted y’all to know why eye feel sad.

sylvia plath, lynda barry, and a sheep named tyler durden

i am going to get some pages of moses jones done. i really really am. i have been busy…a bit suicidal…depressed…and busy.

i would be lying if i said i had been working on this zine that i started by drawing the cover. although i have worked a bit on an essay about john irving and also lynda barry. but that is all. and i did this journal page thinking about doing some ink brush paintings of livestock:

journal-page-2

livestock!
so now i have ten chickens and four sheep. i have a tendency to just wing it in many areas of my life. like i never seem to get adequate directions, do not have a smart phone or gps, yet constantly set out on adventures saying, “we’ll find it.” so i got chickens before i had a coop built. i got dogs before making sure my chickens would not be harassed by them. and i got sheep before i had a fenced pasture. long story short. i have lost one rooster to an over-zealous herd dog and have poisoned one sheep by not researching very well and just thinking, “it’ll be fine.” strange that someone as neurotic as me would be so okay with winging it. but i am. another example of my oxymoronity.

we named our sheep after favorite characters from favorite movies. i got to name the ram. i really wanted to name him tyler durden…but decided on harold (from harold & maude) because i was afraid a sheep named tyler durden might be prone to fighting as well as challenging the status quo. but harold the ram got really sick after eating something (acorns? toxic lambsquarters? too much chicken food?) and was looking awful. so i re-re-named him tyler durden and “drenched” (which means to force liquids on–not to douse with a hose!) him with apple cider vinegar and began my journey towards being a holistic shepherd.

but it is my depression more than anything that has crippled my creative process. i read something recently that said that depression is “living in the past.” you know, with anxiety being “living in the future.” i can see that…but my problem is my depression is a current event. i am very unhappy–not with my homestead…but with my live-in ex-husband. aka dusty knickers. he is happy to live at my folks place, contributing only when he sees the whites of my eyes, and otherwise playing video games and being a pain in the ass. i don’t know how to get him to move on…move out…move! i have come to peace with some things–like that it is not my job to let him know he is an asshole…but i do not know how to find peace with him always here. always being dusty.

but i have not taken the sylvia plath route. mostly because of what it would do to my kids. i decided that suicide is something best done when you are young and childless. i passed my open window of opportunity in 1998 (the last time i seriously contemplated suicide but ended up marrying some guy i just met instead. marriage & suicide are on about the same level for me, i guess. ha!) now i have four kids and have to commit to being here no matter how painful it is.

yay.

so i’m putting together this zine. you can be in it if you want. right now it is in a very loose stage of development. but, you know, art–poetry–essays.
and i’m still working on all my other projects: moses jones, lizard brain, whimsy, one up on sylvia plath, space aliens & serial killers…. kids, homestead, survival, etc. you know the drill. and reading, always reading. i totally recommend david wong. but most recently i finally read lynda barry’s notes of an accidental professor. as you may or may not know, i attended uw where she teaches, but somehow i never made it into her class despite her being an early influence for my comics. self-sabotage? fear of my heroes? just plain goofy? we had a nodding acquaintance, mostly because i took my kids to her monthly drawing jams…but i never became soul sisters with her even though my inner geek dreamed of this.
it’s a regret i have.
so i’m sending her a postcard.
you know, a moses jones postcard.
(who knows, maybe she will be my best friend forever after all.) a postcard, and then i will close that chapter and open a new one.

just me and my lizard brain…page two

i think i am exorcising some demons with this comic.
which is good.
i’m not sure how long this comic will end up being…
if it will be just one story,
or a continuing story.
but right now it is strong in my head
so i figure i should go with it.

i like the way the art turned out. i like using a different font. i developed the font i letter with in moses jones & other works in like..what..1998? 1999? so it is fun to use a different way of lettering with this comic. then, in a tribute to ralph steadman, i mess it up a bit. i like messy.
messy is fun.

also! i may have mentioned that i am putting my quixotic poetry together into a collection. well, i decided to put ALL of the poetry i can find that i have written over the years into that collection and to maybe try to find a publisher? maybe self publish? maybe enter it into a contest? but, fuck it, i am doing something. all that raw emotion & terrible verse just begs to be ridiculed by the public (haha!)

and i still want to be doing more ink brush painting. i think i need more paper. maybe that’s what my block is with that.
so i need to find an art store.
does anyone know any independent art stores in central illinois?

izzy & maeve

maybe this page looks rough because i feel rough.
another depressed & anxious day in the life
& i’m all like,
“since i feel like crap & a big dumb
failure…i should work on my comic about the destructive voices
that tell me i am crap
& a big dumb failure.”
so here is the very first page of
just me & my lizard brain

i am actually pretty excited about it, regardless of my depression & anxiety. what better way to deal with feeling like crap than to write a comic about feeling like crap?
i’m a genius.

or not.

it is yet to be determined. (though a quiz on facebook today told me i am a genius)

interesting side note. my main character is named after my very first therapist. maeve. what a cool name, right? it got vetoed as a baby name, so i’m naming this creation in her honor.

i hope you enjoy it. when i am feeling more centered & zen, i will try to do some chinese ink brush paintings of the cornfields i see all around me.
maybe some stark raving whimsy when i am–um–stark raving whimsical?
and when i am in the mood for fighting zombies, we will see more of moses jones!