while the baby naps…

i have doodled a bit.

& written bad poetry…as i am prone to do when feeling heartsick…or hopeful. or both at the same time.

and i have started reading neil gaiman’s collection of short stories trigger warning. i have only read the introduction and the first couple of stories, but i can tell you this–though i have always loved neil gaiman’s writing…now i am in love with his writing. plus, he seems like such an authentic person. i think about trying to contact him…but i’m still recovering from lynda barry’s callous treatment of my heart.

i miss my bubble. i know i live in somewhat of a bubble. the fictitious town of madison, wisconsin. where farmer’s market abound and local organic food is a given. where everyone recycles and liberal bumper stickers decorate many a hybrid car. not the kind of town that in on the landscape of moses jones’s world. and a rare town in my own world, i am realizing as i leave my bubble.

i miss my dusty. i can’t make the coffee right on my own. i have no one to tell the funny stuff to. and the scary stuff. well, no one i want to tell it to. how does moses jones live so long without her dusty? she must have strong walls around her heart. she must be protecting herself. not just from zombies…but from love.

ah, the insight one gets from leaving one’s comfort zone.

while uploading the picture of my daily doodles, i realized i also had pictures of dusty & poppy–and dusty & fidgit–on my camera.

& daddy 007 & daddy 012

i miss dusty…i even miss watching him playing killing floor 2. (dusty spends a lot of time preparing to fight zombies.) i think we will be back together soon though. he has given me reason to feel hopeful that we can save our relationship from the (w)horrors that cannibalize it. however, i find that dusty waxes and wanes like the moon, controlling the tides of me. right now the moon is full & bright…although i have learned the hard way, there is always a dark side to the moon.


more confusion perfume

more confusion perfume

so i have started some sketches of side characters that squat in the same house as moses jones, but i may not have them done until late tonight when i can work relatively uninterrupted….

meanwhile, here’s another old old one of mine. it’s timely too because just last night i locked myself in the bathroom & cut off a bunch of my hair. i think i am a short-haired chick. i try to grow it long, but that just doesn’t make sense to me. plus my hair is super dense & course & like a thicket. so i trimmed & thinned & filled the shower with so so so much hair–yet i am somehow not even close to being bald. it is therapeutic. i started growing it out again because the dad of my kids likes me with long hair. but you know what? fuck him. i’m a short-haired chick.

ps. i miss my dog. that’s him in the comic. or, the comic version of him. in the comic his name is stinky. he was a good dog even if he was condescending & questioned everything i did. he was 14 when he died, and we had been together since he was 7 weeks old. i almost named him “johnny melloncamp” but didn’t…. i should have though–that would have really pissed him off.
rest in peace, norman. i miss you.