Skull Caps & Dog Moms

Okay here is me and the tattoo hat and the infamous ELEANOR. This was an adventurous walk bc we decided to explore a place we had not been, a place off the trail that had just been mowed. We were tearing through the grass when i hear a Yelp and immediately spin around to check on my dog. She is froze in mid-step with her paw in the air staring dead at me. I call her, but she whimpers. I go to her and discover she has a million sticker balls in her fur and several stuck deep in the pads of her her paws. When i squat down i get stuck  in the butt by a million more sticker balls that are covering my pants leg. I said uh oh LE, we got in the bramble patch. So packed her out of that little field and then removed the thorns. She cried and my fingers BLED!! We got in a BAD briar batch.  But then i was the dog-mom hero in a tattoo your skull hat. I love the skull bc she has RED RIBBONS in her hair. i mean it's a b/w white photo but the ribbons are RED. and they are in her..well..not hair but..you know. And speaking of another awesome dog mom

here is my REAL moma

  This is how she spends sunday afternoons. Lounging with dogs. They kept kissin her face, so she pulled her hood up, but then they tried to pull it off to kiss her some more. Except for Mopsy, the grey one, the just really really wanted to lay on  my moms belly but she kept falling off. Epitome of cuteness.

And to continue in that theme, here is the badass Amanda Barron, who is doing makeup for widepread panic's halloween show in nola, with her badass dog EDGAR Von Barron. Yay for dog moms.

 

dork

I am a dork for a lot of reasons..one of which is the hat ibought today, a cap really... That says tattoo your soul. that makes no sense, i know, but really i thought it said tattoo your SKULL bc it has a skull on it. But anyway i like hats so there. And i wore my cap on my jog to keep my hair outta my face and the sun outta my eyes. i ran a long way, i'm excited that i can run for longer than ever before..it feels so good i get lost in this zone. i am dork also for emailing random people on the internet that have blogs. Or is that even normal? that might be normal. i am so socially akward i dont even know how to act online. In my defense, I have been under the influence of antihistamines and various assortment of cold medicines this entire week. I feel better but still sick and sore. Of course i cant miss work at all bc i'm saving my vacay for Tulsa the end of the month. So Im sick but Im trying not to think about it.

I have way too much to think about all the time, it never stops, and sometimes i just wish i could write it all down and sort it all out but.. i never have the TIME bc my head keeps on going. Same with paintings i just get new ideas and want to start a new one despite the fact that i have several unfinished and then they never get finished. So i start a focused post in my head and it never gets written down correctly and thats why i cant go back to graduate school. Bc you cant just walk up with an armful of 40 paintings and 50 cryptic poems to EXPLAIN them. You have to lay it all out in order and i think i hate order. Or at least i cant MAKE it. Usually i LOSE half of everything before I even get where i'm going though. I lost my keys at the vet today. I lost my phone, too but i found it quickly unlike the usual 3 day scavenger hunt with no clues. i hate those. Anway, even though i wont be going to school for an MFA anytime soon or ever i still think i should attempt to write organized thoughts about my paintings. and this is a good place to do it bc its all secret in a tiny corner of the interwebs. and with that thought ive got to go brush my teeth

P1010711

P1010711
Originally uploaded by Cedar Star

Zarco Guerrero's wooden skull carving. On exhibit at NSU for Dia de los Muertos

Eleanor Brooke

so in an effort to not, or at least to interrupt, the endless body image/weight/food nonsense i will think about one of the most fulfilling things in my life right now and that is lil Ellie B. Yesterday on our walk we chased a bunny. She saw it and I saw it and i knew she was about to take off so i went with her. Bunny got away. Chasing bunnies is super fun. Then Ellie wonderdog came trudging up the hill behind me (she has a super long retractable leash) very verrry slowly. i kept calling her but she was in granny mode. Somethings not right, thought I. So i checked her paw and it turned out she had a huge briar with super sharp thorns stretching from one front leg (arm?) across her chest and to the other leg! poor ting! i got it out but it hurt her and my fingers and she even yelped. (i didnt) when i let her go she took off like a rocket after her uncle Randy (my walkin buddy) and we jogged the whole rest of the way back. So I thought after all that running El would certainly be tired and sleep all night. NOT SO. Miss prissy pants decided that she was mad I went to bed so early (i have a cold) and so she decided to play her favorite game: TEAR UP. So i woke up this morning to survey the damage..one brown shoe had the buckle strap chewed off..not too bad...i vaguely remember her rooting around in between asking to go outside five times FOR NO REASON..and i was afraid there would be more destruction. Well. at lunch time when i came home to chill with Ellie i saw that she had THREW UP HER COLLAR. HER CUTE LIT GREEN IKEA COLLAR WITH THE WHITE DAISIES ON IT. So i went to my room and dug around and found the buckle to it and the end with holes. I hope to god that she threw up the rest of it outside somewhere bc i would hate to blog about Eleanor's Bowel Obstruction surgery. She is acting fine, though so maybe she is okay. I will be on poop patrol i guess to make sure she goes. god. i cant believe she ATE IT. it was leather. Maybe she thought it was like rawhide. This so makes me worry about what else she might eat. Lil crazy dog. Lil smart crazy dog. sometimes it seems like she is an alien in a puppy suit.

healthy healthy healthy

my back a few years ago with my dearly beloved tattoo

i am only five feet and five inches tall. that blows, really.

wish i was taller.

blah blah blah

this is a vessel

but i cant live wihtout i dont believe

i dont believe i exist w/out a body but i used to think otherwise

ink it carve it starve it

but it keeps changing and it can be

so startling

this vessel.

can break down.

but what amazes me is

the strength

to lift pull run

push out a freakin kid

i kinda never asked for that

thanks god or nature or what have you

this vessel can feel like a cage

a cage i want out of

drowning in flesh i feel i am

Zero

Ive been poking around on ED blogs, I

don't think its bad bc they are mostly recovery blogs but...

sometimes it makes me feel tired.

ED doesn't work for me like most people, it seems. I don't even know that my diagnosis was ever correct. 

Maybe bc I m older now and its been so long

but like, i think I've ruined my metobolism.

So i bought some trashy mag with emaciated celebs on it (i did a painting from it, so,yes, i put it to good use) and the odd thing is, when i saw the cover - i was drawn to it, yes - but i asked myself - Do I miss being that skinny? and I promptly answered myself - No, i miss being that hungry. I miss being that empty. So when i saw my gypsy (therapist) she had me elaborate on the hunger thing. But all i could think was

Emptiness is loneliness

and loneliness is cleanliness

and cleanliness is godliness

and god is empty, just like me

-zero, smashing pumpkins

weight of the world

Whatcha weigh? Whatcha worth?

just one fix

my dead butterfly heart

What is normal eating? (a

(a bargain with the devil - me)

real answer:

"...a healthy relationship with food means eating in response to physical hunger most of the time. However, normal eating can also include experiences such as eating occasionally because something looks good, eating past fullness at a special meal, eating in response to an emotion once in a while or choosing foods based on nutritional content because this feels care taking. Attuned eating means that eating for satisfaction is predominant, and experiencing deprivation is virtually non-existent. Attuned eating is a natural skill. It can be relearned by people who have lost touch with their hunger and can be reinforced and nurtured in children so that they maintain this healthy relationship with food throughout their lives."


Matz, J. and Frankel, E. (2004). Beyond a shadow of a diet: The therapist's guide to treating compulsive eating. New York: Brunner-Routledge
!!!!! ..."and experiencing deprivation is virtually non-existent"

wow. my entire diet is based on deprivation. even though i am appear to be, and really am, at a healthy weight.

my thpst. has guided me toward meeting needs. basic needs.
Would you deprive another person?
Why do you treat yourself that way?

i suggested to a friend that he imagine saying some of the hateful things he said to himself to another person, his child for instance. He looked shocked and said, "i never thought of it that way"

My sister told me some things that she did to herself when she was little.
i wanted to cry! I said, "but if someone else had done that to you, it would be considered torture! I would have wanted to kill them!! She said she still didn't know why she did it.
I deprive myself now, but when i was fourteen years old i literally starved myself for a year.
Now, at thirty, I combat this behavior and more importantly, I combat the underlying reasons.
I would never starve a fourteen year old innocent child.
At fourteen, i would have never harmed another human being.
But sometimes, when i do it now, and when i idid it then, it was as if i was torturing, starving, hurting..a demon or some awful thing that was inside me. It didnt ALWAYS feel as if it were somthing that i was doing to myself.
Sometimes it felt as if the "torture" was something that a "devil woman" or "witch" was doing it to me.
As if i was NOT the only entitiy in my head.
And i believe that religion is a really good explanation as to why thinking another entity could inhabit your head or body and make you do/deserve things.
Believingin angels/demons/heaven/hell is normal its not mental illness.
Believing that a devil has a doll of you, and is torturing it to make you do something is mental illness, not religion.
but sometimes its real hard for me to tell the difference, especially when i look back at the things i felt and thought as a child/adolescent.
So i try not to really think about it anymore but i do kind of fear falling back into that way of thinking.
i focus on controlling actions as far as being good to myself and everything.
but i really and truly have no idea how to eat normally. my existence is based on deprivation.
even though i maintain a healthy wieght now and do not appear to be deprived.
i am bargaining with the devil.

saa hold ellie

saa hold ellie
Originally uploaded by angel in the dope smoke

So. here are the new boots? keep? or no? And here is Ellie. Keep? yeah..i think so. ill keep her

eclipse this

painting
Originally uploaded by angel in the dope smoke

i have so much work to do today
god i love green tea
Patchouli is the best smell
i like how my puppy's ears smell
shoes are so much fun i just got some
earth shoes so i can
burn more calories with every step*
reading about incantations made my heart beat faster.
to speak a gods name...to Invoke.
Well i tried to eat tuna but dear god...it's crazy-awful
i need a low calorie high lean protein source that DOES NOT involve a
dead animal
why do i love peeling/picking skin???
i love when bright eyes says
"looking skinny like a model with yr eyes all painted black
you keep goin' to the bathroom always say yu'll be right back
well it takes one to know one kid i think you've got it bad"
well here is a painting but i never paint this way
i did this to prove something
and i probably didn't but oh well
the past two mornings i woke up at 4:44 with
the night unraveling all around me

wings/burden

I live with an animal

Red Mange looks like this


and now..so does ellie. (That, however, is not Ellie)

i noticed it yesterday, that the skin around her eye was pinkish red and puffy
so i took her to the vet this morning.

The vet took a razor blade and scraped the skin, then put the flakes under the microscope. The cool thing is the Vet let me look at the parasite through the microscope.

It was pretty amazing. Looked sorta like this


Apparently there are two types of mange, one is basically scabies and can be contagious. That is SARCOPTIC MANGE.
Red Mange is Demo..ic mange, and dogs that get it have a genetic disposition to it.
It is not contagious. And that is what Eleanor has.

So she is getting dipped at the vet right now and then I will have to
give her medicine daily for two weeks.

Oh, by the way, if anyone ever heard that dipping your dog in motor oil treats mange,
everything i read explicitly said NEVER DO THIS. EVER. I never heard of it but people do crazy-awful things to their dogs, even when they think they are helping. Coating an animal in motor oil can KILL IT.

oh by the way, here is a sarcoptic mange paraiste.
they are kin to spiders

Devil I Don't Know

"For human beings are not so constituted that they can live without expansion. If they do not get it one way, they must another, or perish."

--Margaret Fuller, Woman in the Nineteenth Century

all i wanna blog about is food. Insanity. Well, no i am bloggin about Sarah Palin but even thinking about her leads me all the way around to MY BODY. then to food. then to my body.
DAMMIT LADY DO NOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO WITH MY UTERUS.
my reproductive organs are mine - HANDS OFF. The power that comes with the female reproductive system belongs to its owner and thats all. Not the State.
And having said system has been a great cause of lament for me and DENYING THAT SYSTEM was a huge part of my ED. I hated the idea of growing up and everything that entailed and i hated the idea of my body taking up more space
and i hated hated hated hated the (male) attention it got so i made it go away. Three Times.
Katherine Anne Porter, described it well in her short story Old Mortality. The Victorian GREENSICK-ness.
Oh, the Greensick Girls.
To reject the life you are being offered...to just REFUSE.
The power to refuse is a strong one, esp when you have no other power, or at least imagine that you dont.
So ...you just opt out.
Fade Away..Bones...Dust.
Its a lie, though.
Its not so easy to Fade when People keep demanding to SEE you in Flesh.

The bad thing about cultivating a life long relationship with mental illness is getting so much better that you
decide you were never mentally ill the first place.

And maybe those things you were doing, and have been fighting against were not really ever harmful AT ALL.
Pain becomes comforting bc it becomes FAMILIAR
A person goes back to destructive behavior bc the Devil you KNOW is sometimes
much less frightful than the
Devil I Don't Know
and living for something outside of a small shell that i made
is the devil i don't know
and the brutal beast inside the shell with me,
Well. He may quiet down at times (months) only to rage up unexpected and brutal with all kinds of tricks..
but i know him well
and i've know him a long time.

The Feel The Fear book said that he first thing you should know about fear is that it never goes away.
(Dr. Susan Jeffers)

That is a good book but it is, so far, about rational fear.
How do i confront the fear of food that results from the (psychotic? neurotic) sensation that my body is out of control and growing increasingly and alarmingly HUGER BY THE MINUTE and i can FEEL THE PRESSURE of the empty space AROUND me PRESSING in and I CANT BREATHE.
What the hell IS THAT?
and then the numbers don't make sense with the mirror or the calories.
the scales are wrong ALL OVER THE PLACE. and my metabolism is all jacked up. and the numbers..the scales lie.
and yeah yeah it shouldn't matter. and long time ago it didn't. as long as i was real hungry fuck a number
but in the realm of recovery it DOES matter bc i need a marker. bc i feel like if i don't have the control i don't have anything
and is one tiny CORRECT ACCURATE number too much to ask?

I need a number to put on it to say yes this size shape body is mine
it is no one else's. It is and was never HIS or HERS or anyone's regardless of what happened. and this body most
certainly does not belong to the trucker or the cat-caller or the doctor or guy at the bar i was ignoring or
the guy who looked up my shirt in 7th grade or the fashion designer or my ex or the criminal or the god damn government.
including Sarah Palin and her anti-choice anti birth control fuckwit agenda.

When we measure, we meet

So right now im really really angry about Sarah Palin but i cant even speak of it.
We made it through the hurricane fairly unscathed and by WE i mean LOUISIANA. Im sure there was damage but jesus we were really bracing for something more like katrina. It felt like the whole state was holding its breath. And today we exhaled and everybody starts going back to their lives and im wearing galoshes. Bc really, i live in a mud hole. and i dont mind.

and im obsessed with scales. Not the ones on my skin or maybe my eyes. rose colored scales to look through.
no, not those - the ones that measure. And it didn't start out that way (weigh?) but thats how it ended up and i just really
want something reliable, you know, a number.
i hate numbers.
i hate bank accounts and dates and times and weights and measures. i hate adding and subtracting and MOST OF ALL IHATE LONG DIVISION. long division = anxiety. well. numbers =anxiety whether is is bc i cant remember what day it is or what TIME it is (thank god for digital) or to carry the one.
but there were some numbers
on a scale..some scales
showed me some numbers that i liked
and they made me feel good.

and one time the therapist asked what it felt like. I said good.
I mean GOOD. like ecstasy. like BLISS. like JOY
AND NOTHING ELSE HAS EVER FELT THAT GOOD IN MY WHOLE LIFE
except maybe drugs. like maybe twice.
Sorry i'm a doll that got wired wrong.
pleasure and pain and needs and denial got all crossed up.
i wish i could find some way to balance being sick with being well.
balance a number and a scale
um get re-wired.

im a martyr for my love for you
i hate the place where vanity meets ED
and even if it doesn't meet inside you
somewhere on the outside, where people don't understand
they just assume
and the thing is,
your body is just your tool, but it is a tool like none other
bc in the context of EVERYTHING
in America
a
female body is a very prized tool.
esp a weakened, yet sexy one.
so i post this picture.
god i love that picture.

Red River

Me and Ellie at Red River
I took off my shoes and ran a while.
She didnt want to run in the water, though.

Collage

Here is a collage i made for a cd cover for a friend. It is some found photographs, my photographs and some of my paintings.
Like a quilt, little scraps, its just a glimpse of a little life...

Bang! Bang!

So got new hair. Kinda makes me feel panicky though. Never had bangs before. I'm just afraid it makes my face look fat. i always worry about fat and i just ascribe some arbitrary meaning to it, though. Anyway I'm weird about my hair. I have always hated having it cut. its part of me, dammit! There is energy in there! My DNA, anyway! Literally i feel panicky. like Im losing something i cant ever get back. Hair. So i dreamed i went to this shack type house in some city - it was like a group home with lots of old guys and in a back room and there were piles of hair everywhere and it felt really bad, like i shouldn't look. The lady that ran place was angry at me for looking. I think they were selling their hair as wigs or something. But i didn't know if there was scalps in there, too.
Still reading the Carl Jung compilation book.
Still don't understand dreams or subconcious. Working on it. But the basic tenant is that there are no real fundamantel SYMBOLS for everyone - just meanings. so your symbols can really on be interpreted by you. Everyone may have a meaning for freedom; Horses don't equal freedom for everyone, for example. Anyway i feel sick. What was this about? Hair? Yes. i got new hair. Do you like it?

heaven and anorexia

so im actually reading a book called feel the fear and do it anyway by susan jeffers phd and i always had self help motivational books on my list of lamest things ever right beside decaf and yanni but you know at some poin you have to say well why not. except for the yanni thing. so anyway im going to repeat these 4 truths everyday and since i feel like a total dork for doing that ive decided to do it at work so i can torture my co workers most notably charles-randy who i will undoubtedly pass this book along to after im done with bc sharing insights on how to deal iwth depression and anxiety and the fact that we always felt very very ugly has been a constant bonding factor in our friendship. Like wow you've hate yrself since jr high?!?! ME TOO! Cool, here read Be Here Now its so zen-like. And then it sort of went on like we cross reference therapists and stuff but at he same time we are like you know maybe there is nothing wrong iwth us maybe we just suck. but then we will go into a total Defense of Antidepressants rant and defend Depression as a disease so yeah, needless to say we are on the same page about alot of things. Which kind of makes work fun. sometimes. Anyway so yeah im gonna read this book and stop having panic attacks when i try to apply to grad school or send art to galleries.
BC PANIC usually leads me to thinking that if i could just lose 5lbs everything would be just gravy anyway and i mean, who cares about skinny supermodes and all that i really just look at Grey's Anatomy or the skeletons in my drawing books and drool over the bones..yes i really want to be THAT THIN. Its my bones, i can t help them, then just WANT OUT. which leads me to the a cool clip of a movie i want to see that addresses the ED


which i was really excited about
but then i found out that in the plot
lydia gets darcy to try to teach her to be anorexic
and im kinda hoping htis movie doesnt lump or stereo type or
what have you but
anyway
im hoping its
good
however i freaking know
JUST KNOW THIS: is gonna be good


like so good i just want to cry.
bc patti is IT
truly

and im going to buy all of her books now
i mean to already but i didnt bc
i was buying how to train yr dog not to tear shit up and walk on a leash even though my dog
tears shit up constantly and i dont even care anymore im like handing her stuff to tear up like i barter with her.
here, LE, you can tear up this box and this magazine and this shoe and give me back that other shoe and my bra.
little Dog Queen of My Life. So basically i break alot of the how to raise yr dog rules bu tat least i know them.
and i know fear, too but im gonna read this other book and get a handle on fear AND then
im gonna order patti smith bc just hearing one of her songs blows my mind and this trailer was like
an affirmation and more than i believe, any slef help could do..EVER.
Her and Jane Goodall better get put in charge of heaven or im not going

cold as ice colored stripes

In a Hammock
looking at Schiele
eating snocones
Was Egon chauvnist? Misogynist? i hate to think so but i read that some thought so. i almost dont want to konw.
i just want to stare at the rigid lines
indicating a furious energy
scrawled lovingly
at naked bodies

kiss the sky

This pic was taken at red river, Brooks took it with a wide angle lens
which is why i loook sooo loooooong and tallllllllll'

ellie was there and we ran round and round and ellie got to chase birds and ellie LOVES.
to chase birds. She gets this look of PURE doggie GLEE!
and there were so many of them she would start chasing one
and then change to another one and so eventually she was just
running around in circles and zig zagging all over the place.
it was so funny. Then she would run up to me adn jump like
ohmigod can yu believe it!! birds! birds! BIRDSSSS!!!!!
and it was about 7:30 so it had cooled off some and i ran pretty far, down to the water just me and ellie.
She stays close to me and if she gets far ahead she will look back, stop and wait.
I found a crumbled turtle shell and some enormous thorns.
Later we looked at my new Egon Schiele book and took some photographs at odd angles for me to draw from.
Ellie slept all the way home. i bet she dreamed about birds.

blerg**snap-fizzzzz brains out

9 hour drive back from Atlanta. I finished reading Wicked w/out getting too carsick.

Im trying to convince myself to apply to sfa, lsu and uno mfa programs just to see what happens.
i cant stay here anymore.
i don't belong anywhere, i never did.
I'm afraid ill get the MFA and be more in debt and still unprepared for a job but i don't know what else to do.
i hardly ever time to paint anymore and this desk job makes me so exhausted in my brains.
i kinda want to just be a welder and stay in Tullos.
I could do that. Could i do that? cows pigs and chickens...sounds like heaven to me.

The people around me freak me the fuck out. You know what? working with the public is insane. Preachers put in ads for thier churches and half of them are total pricks. The doctors, accountants and realtors are rude jerks. My nicest customer is this guy who owns a bar and has bands come play. I freakin ran his ad wrong and offered to give me a free drink. I screwed up a church ad once and the preacher, like, hung up on me. I love how people hide behind their religion. Its so gross.

capitalism is giant mindfuck that bred with christianity and made a population of WASP bitch soccermoms who are hyper breeding in surburbia. Then crash dieting and buying bratz dolls for thier spawn.
The governmnetis like, here is a prozac now just go buy shit. YUMMY. hmm

well. ive had enough of this. im going to build a castle out of animals bones and rubber tires and hide out.
wake me up when the war is over.

Cynic

Cynic
Originally uploaded by angel in the dope smoke

Completed a painting. i like some of the colour mixtures but i don't know how well they show up in the photo. bad glare on right so i gotta retake soon.

Candies Dress

Candies Dress
Originally uploaded by angel in the dope smoke

Kylee, Amanda and i went to goodwill Sunday. This was a fun find.Kylee found it for me! I think i had one similar when i was about 9 or 10. Amanda got a rabbit fur coat - floor length - for 20 bucks. She put back the leather vest with fringe. Goodwill makes you awesome.

Going to hell!!

oh i love the bastard fairies!

Easter

Easter Saturday. We went Greenhousing!
Im gonna plant snapdragons, soon

Louisiana Wedding

Jacob came in for his brother's wedding. It was out in Natchez at this awesome modern plantation style house. And the weather was gorgeous.

the coveted cuff

shoe•shine•time

i have too many shoes to store reasonably in a closet plus, i think they are pretty so i put them on a shelf in the liv room so i can see them...okay that also keeps them away from a puppy who thinks she is Vlad the Impaler to Shoes.
i really only like cheap shoes though
these are courtesy walmart in jena, Payless, Payless, and Nichols in winnfield. god i love nichols. The chooka rubber boots were actually 40 bucks but i live in the boggy south and my backyard floods so... it was a great investment. i was calling my ankle boots the brett micheals boots (like cheap rock n roll) but im changing that to the punk princess shoes. as in Patti smith not avril lavigne.

Fashionfreak;Its in the details

So i love braclets and now i am loving to wrap ribbons around my wrists and then put bracelets OVER them. i like chunky featurers on wrists/ankles alot. Once reason is bc it like bondage to your LIFE. being tied to yourself. Typing and moving and doing work is more difficult wiht these cumbersome weights..makes you more aware of your body and surroundings.
when i was going through this long drawn out break up one summer i had about 15 ankle bracelets on each ankle. ribbon, hemp, wire, jewelry, string...all different colors. Strips of fabrick i cut off of clothes.. i would just tie them on me. it was symbolic but ended up looking really cool (to me.) and one day i was walking across campus in flat flip flops and some boy said, "i like your heels." Not what yu normally hear from a boy on campus. it took me a minute to realize he meant my ankles. (anatomy?) anyway later at the end of hte summer i cut htem all off. my ankes were so furry from not being able to shave underneath. .... such a witch, even when it comes to getting dressed. Isnt that a great green bracelet? my mom gave it to me, what is a good name for that green? grannygreen?

im in love with a strict machine

ouch ouch ouch
i got these at payless so you KNOW they hurt. they look awesome though. i think ill wear them for washing dishes. a painful task anyway.
but the black fur - that is lil eleanor. and she says shoes are for chewing.

painting takes dough

$165.65 worth of acrylic paint and medium....and i still need brushes. BUT I LOVE COBALT TEAL!!!! AND QUINACRADONE SIENNA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

messy girls

need THIS!!! He can suck up anything!!
and he could be a messy ADD disorganized person's best friend.
He will suck up the 1/2 of yr breakfast that is in a trail from the kitchen to couch to bedroom and even sawdust!!! He even sucked up my friend George!!
plus..this lil shop vac was only 30 bucks!!

green and red

Shoes from goodwill 3.99. Adding 3inches to my 5'5 shortness is priceless. And what esle is priceless is a free visit with this little green guy. He was hanging out on the Natchitoches Times door...and he gave me a word of peace with his bright green existence!!

stephen crane

The Wayfarer

The wayfarer,
Perceiving the pathway to truth,
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly grown with weeds.
"Ha," he said,
"I see that none has passed here
In a long time."
Later he saw that each weed
Was a singular knife.
"Well," he mumbled at last,
"Doubtless there are other roads."

AND NOW ONE OF MY FAVORITE POEMS EVER:

In the Desert

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter -- bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

Stephen Crane

In Heaven

In heaven,
Some little blades of grass
Stood before God.
"What did you do?"
Then all save one of the little blades
Began eagerly to relate
The merits of their lives.
This one stayed a small way behind,
Ashamed.
Presently, God said,
"And what did you do?"
The little blade answered, "Oh my Lord,
Memory is bitter to me,
For, if I did good deeds,
I know not of them."
Then God, in all His splendor,
Arose from His throne.
"Oh, best little blade of grass!" He said

Stephen Crane (1871 - 1900)


Stephen Crane was the last of 14 children born to a Methodist minister who died when he was nine. As a child he moved three times in the New York area. Crane never cared much for schooling, but he did attend Syracuse University - although only for one semester, and his most noteworthy accomplishments were performed on the baseball field. He lived the down-and-out life of a penniless artist who became well known as a poet, journalist, social critic and realist. His contemoraries noted him as being an "original" in his field of work.

War and other forms of physical and mental violence fascinate Crane. He began writing for newspapers in 1891 when he settled in New York where he developed his powers as an observer of psychological and social reality. After he wrote Red Badge of Courage, which earned Crane international acclaim at age 24, he was hired as a reporter in the American West and Mexico. At the age of 27, Crane moved to Jacksonville, Florida and got married. While in Jacksonville, his boat The Commodore sank off the coast and he wrote about the harrowing adventure in The New York Press. Crane covered the Greco-Turkish War and later settled in England where he made friends with famous writers of the time including H.G. Wells and Henry James. He later covered the Spanish-American War for Joseph Pulitzer's New York World. During the last few years of his life, he began writing furiously because he was in debt and suffering from tuberculosis. He later died while he was in Germany.
http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/stephencrane/

the addict

days that start like this
everyday
swallow the plastic pill.
everyone does, i know.
my last experience with detoxing
from the human pesticide
was grim and inside i know
i cant do it again.
and it gnaws at me.

im just abundle of chemicals
organic wires as nerves
so are we all.
i walk a very very thin line i guess
im balancing on a little blue pill
i wont totally give in either direction
i need the struggle maybe?
id ont know.
i just know
i pay money to a coorporate government
for a pill to make
it okay for me to live and breathe
in this bullshit global marektplace
w/out weeping for hours everyday
i swallow willingly now
but i used to fight.


The Addict by Anne Sexton

Sleepmonger,
deathmonger,
with capsules in my palms each night,
eight at a time from sweet pharmaceutical bottles
I make arrangements for a pint-sized journey.
I'm the queen of this condition.
I'm an expert on making the trip
and now they say I'm an addict.
Now they ask why.
WHY!

Don't they know that I promised to die!
I'm keping in practice.
I'm merely staying in shape.
The pills are a mother, but better,
every color and as good as sour balls.
I'm on a diet from death.

Yes, I admit
it has gotten to be a bit of a habit-
blows eight at a time, socked in the eye,
hauled away by the pink, the orange,
the green and the white goodnights.
I'm becoming something of a chemical
mixture.
that's it!

My supply
of tablets
has got to last for years and years.
I like them more than I like me.
It's a kind of marriage.
It's a kind of war where I plant bombs inside
of myself.

Yes
I try
to kill myself in small amounts,
an innocuous occupatin.
Actually I'm hung up on it.
But remember I don't make too much noise.
And frankly no one has to lug me out
and I don't stand there in my winding sheet.
I'm a little buttercup in my yellow nightie
eating my eight loaves in a row
and in a certain order as in
the laying on of hands
or the black sacrament.

It's a ceremony
but like any other sport
it's full of rules.
It's like a musical tennis match where
my mouth keeps catching the ball.
Then I lie on; my altar
elevated by the eight chemical kisses.

What a lay me down this is
with two pink, two orange,
two green, two white goodnights.
Fee-fi-fo-fum-
Now I'm borrowed.
Now I'm numb.

sensory,

photoshop deleted my paintings.
they said they violated terms.
whatever.
fuckers.

i went and tried on lots of different shoes on my lunch break.
i didnt buy any just teetered about in tall heels that i am to0 broke to buy.
i have on purple socks.

and red shoes i love red shoes i love
rope
ribbon
clove cigarrettes
beetles
red wine
dogs.
colors.
handmade paper
dragon flies
toenail polish - red black or pink
kisses
dirt
green green gras
being underwater
fitting into small spaces
ladybugs
millipedes
spiders wih babies on their back
webs with dew drops
bracelets
incense
carving
lipstick
blood
racoons
knives
bones
skulls
black eyed susans
stars
poems
fruit pinapples pears cherries grapes
patchouli
silver rings
marshmallow creme
pills
candles
tree bark
leaves
crickets
frogs
ponds
wading
sisters
photography
pretending
white zombie
white nightgowns
lace
burlap
secrets
rust
empty old houses
blood
psychology
myths
scars
trunks
keys
locks
vines
moss
gauze
touching
thorns
petals
nothing makes sense today im organizing ideas

i wanna girl too sad to give a fuck

ILOVE THIS SONG
LOVER I DONT HAVE TO LOVE
I picked you out
Of a crowd and talked to you.
Said I liked your shoes,
You said, "Thanks, Can I follow you?"

So it's up the stairs,
And out of view. No prying eyes.
I poured some wine.
I asked your name;
You asked the time.

Now it's two o'clock.
The club is closed,
We are up the block.
Your hands are on me,
Pressing hard against your jeans,
Your tongue in my mouth,
Trying to keep the words from coming out,
You didn't care to know
Who else may have been you before.

I want a lover I don't have to love,
I want a girl who's too sad to give a fuck.
Where's the kid with the chemicals?
I thought he said to meet him here,
But I'm not sure.
I've got the money
If you've got the time.
He said, "It feels good."
I said "I'll give it a try."

Then my mind went dark,
We both forgot where your car was parked.
Let's just take the train.
I'll meet up with the band in the morning

Bad actors, with bad habits...
Some sad singers, they just play tragic.
And the phone is ringing,
And the van is leaving
Let's just keep touching,
Let's just keep...keep singing

I want a lover I don't have to love,
I want a boy who's so drunk he doesn't talk.
Where's the kid with the chemicals?
I got a hunger and I can't seem to get full.
I need some meaning I can memorize.
The kind I have always seems to slip my mind.

But you, but you...

You write such pretty words,
But life's no storybook.
Love's an excuse to get hurt.
And to hurt.
Do you like to hurt?
I do, I do.
Then hurt me,
Then hurt me,
Then hurt me