Headed to NOLA!!

Im going to New Orleans tonight. That dreamy nightmare city that I LOVE. Me and my two best girls.
we are gong to a cemetery and art galleries.

I have been thinking that i am going change up the point of my blog. From now on, I'm gonna aim for no less than 3 posts a week and all will have drawings. I have been drawing almost every night. Lately, i just have not had many words and im perplexed bc for so long i had way way way tooooo MANY words. and then they slowed down.

So i plan on seeing art on this trip; maybe i will be inspired to post more drawings tuck them in this little corner of bloggy land.


Here is my luna moth painting from last month

Goddess of Mayhaws!

I made some sculpty figures over the weekend and picked these Mayhaws at Red River yesterday. Eventually I am going to Sand the little venus figure and make a little box for her to live in, but for now she is hangin out in the Mayhaws

Worlds Collide

This painting is new. It is about being caught between to worlds...the living and the dead, the reality everyone works adn shops in and the imaginary world in my head that seemed so much more real. Caught between sick and well...stretched grasping....one foot in the grave yet moving toward emerald city...Yellow makes me feel crazy. Staring into bright yellow for a long time could feel so good to my brain...but oh i just want to be wrapped up in colored light.

It takes guts...

So I had to leave work early to get to the doc an hour away to get my prescriptions and I told her I was doing great and Prozac is, like, the best thing that ever happened to me (and i mean that. i was so sick for a while i did not know it was possible to not have the deathlust daily). She said i looked good and asked me about calories and food and that kinda freaked me out bc i usually save that for the gypsy, and keep it brief with her. I hate when she says i look great. Healthy and Alive is scary. But only bc Sad and Death Bones was all i knew for so long and it was a sharp comfortable pain. Health feels Anxious.
It takes guts to stay well. to get well. It does. It takes guts to reach out to others, too. Hello dear friend, I am merely suggesting that you love your self. and you body.

I told her i m still terrified of real food; i exist on diet/nutrition food moslty and it seems to be working out okay. I dont tell her alot of things bc i dont want more meds. So i say its peachy. but the scary thing is, it kind of IS peachy. Where did the Compulsion go? really? was it the meds? was it the years of struggling to quiet the hate noise and death lust? a combo? How did i freaking get to a place as free from psychic pain as this? im shocked. Im so scared it won't last. The colors never looked so bright....sober.

But when i don't feel the gray drudge pain of a sick mind...I feel like something is missing.

Zydecajun

So here is a pic of me with Wayne Toup,s a zydeco musician who played in Zwolle sat night. I love the accordian, the band was great. Wayne was sweet and funny and he had a very pretty red accordian. Everyone - old people and little kids - were dancing all over the place. It was fun to watch..i love live music..and I love Louisiana, too even tho some parts are stupid and sad.

I was too exhausted to paint this weekend even tho i have a bad ass new jute canvas that clyde gave me. So I drew a lot and even dug out my old prisma color markers to play with. i will post those and my pics from the love/hate show soon.
I dont know if it is work or weather or my increased caffeine abuse but my god i have been sleepy. Half the time I feel like I am dreaming.

I miss those days were i slept all day and painted all night....okay back to work. work smerk.

and i didn't even get to go in!

So the funny thing about this pic is that i didnt actually make it INTO the museum but ....hey there is always NEXT TIME.
and i put it on facebook and refused to body snark on myself even tho i wanted to say OMiGOD.GUT!!! But whatever, i mean its the HIGH MUSEUM OF ART - can i not focus for two freaking seconds on the amount of space i take up? i annoy myself as if i am some one else. weird. shut up self Wait was that me?

Have not been bloggin much bc of numba one PARANOIA and numba two - not much time anymore. Since they fired the coolest manager ever and replaced him with creep-a-zoid who does not know how to do anything i have been working overtime. and drinking lots of coffee which is making me feel anxious and panicky and huge. but oh well. i stuck paintings in the LoVe/Hate art show in shreveport and that was fun.

i have got blog reading to catch up on. Strange how you can miss the blogworld when you get kinda sucked out of it.

disconnect

this pic is about the general (yet constant) disconnect one can feel from their own body...and life.

I feel really disconnected lately. I am i big or small? young or old? is everyone always this busy? is this just real life or i am not
fitting in...again.

I have not blogged in so long bc numba one, ive been working like crazy and numba two - i have gotten nervous about having all this stuff on the 'net. or i just can't decide if i shouldbe nervous about it or not..
So the sociopath is back in jail where he belongs.
i got some paintings to the Love/Hate art show but then i was too brain dead to stay very long and visit with everyone.

work is so different than it used to be. It used to be laid back and chill and we focused on graphic design the most but now it is sooo overwhelmingly busy and non stop and we are more worried about money and selling and getting the ads done fast. In a way it sucks but in a way it is good for me....challenge. However the working from 6:45am to midnight was waaay to much and hopefully that will stop.

I still feel tired from last week. I had over 20 hours of overtime. zap buzz snap **

sociopath

omgd.
people need some kind of freaking Personality Disorder Guide Book to get through life....I said he is a SOCIOPATH and everyone is like.."uh yeah right." No. not a serial killer, not a rapist - just some everyday random person who has no conscience but knows how to act, how to blend in to appear as if he does...so that he can get what he wants - money usually.
and you want to make them feel bad...you want to hurt them back but it is impossible bc they can not feel empathy or guilt or remorse. that part of their brain is all broke up or not there or didn't ever grow in right.

okaaay instead of sociopath let me say CON ARTIST. okay? There you go.
superficial charm? check
compulsive constant lying? check
manipulation? check
repeatedly hurt the people close to them - even own children - with no remorse? check
blames others and the system repeatedly for own faults? Check
Plays on yr sympathies? Check
Continues to lie even after it is obvious to everyone that he is lying? Check.


i mean the list goes on.
and on..

If a person EVER seems to good to be true they probably ARE.

Does it seem like personality disorders always attract other personality disorders?
as if you weren't screwed up enought with your OCD or what have you, some narcissist asshole shows up, you are immediatley uncontrollable attracted to this person...and then they steal all yr money or what have you.

Humans are animals with technology..bundles of dumb energy. don't forget but have a great day anyway

you cant just make a new soul

i cant blog...i am painting, though.

the general manager at my job said he only wanted to hire hotties from now on.

everyone i know is on some work out diet plan they LOVE to talk about it

i dont want to be sober. like ever. but of course i am. right..... but it really bums me out
that most of hte population has not overcome the simple animal part of their brain that says mate with something attractive.
and often. it makes me want to be extremely UNattractive. too thin too pale too wierd back up back off
i don't feel connected to them all.

emotionally i retreat into my skull and hoard knives.

Gypsy Rose Tattoo

is one of two characters i made up on the way to work one day.
I write stories about them in my head ALOT. Probably too much bc this is real life, right? andin real life
you work at a desk.
whatever. ive got to pay bills right?
so anyway here is bit about Gypsy that begins from a rant about a girl who stole very precious gems from me:


You didn't have to steal. you could have asked. I would have probably given it to you.
but now, you have made yourself into a thief... and you appear...
positively spineless.
with a personality disorder.
oh well.

we were evaluating your progress and you fail.
When did i get made Queen? um.. just last week.

i have a walking skeleton on one side and the other...well, that is the white witch.
i would stay away from her..if i were you.

doe eyes.
stained lips.
i could easily slip a blade right near the jugular... yours...hmmm or mine

but i dont destroy people that way.
i, in fact, dont want to destroy anyone at all.
i want them all to stay away from me
except for the dolls i made and the two or three i will have over for tea

but if you do break into my house at night to steal my words - or my breath
i
sleep beside
a blue steel .45

I can peel my skin off.
i can make none of it matter.
i can roll my eyes backwards and become 85
turn you to dust.

i practiced for hours.
"you are insane and you eat spiders."
she walked away.

hmmm 2004 im an actress now. a really good one. im acting in bed, im acting at the dinner table im acting in class and at work and even when im alone im acting.
i brush my teeth comb my hair
pretending to care at all that i breathe.

Her name is Gypsy Rose Tattoo. She hates her name and she hates her face. She draws
careful pictures off all the bad things she wont allow herself to do.
she paints the ceiling red at 15 and begins hoarding baby food jars.
filling them with insects
"my trains of thoughts are insects..marching in a row..marching across my mind stomp
stomp. stomp". she holds her head.
in her hands.
her daddy plays in a rock band. she smokes pot in the basment and listens to his old records.
She moves away right after high school wanders around barefoot for a long time.
in the grimy city
near the dirty shore
foamy waves lick her pale ankles
i want to see the red skynow im ready for the red sky
she falls backwards into the waves into the rocks

the people who love me

"you should be careful what you blog about," said one of the people that love me. "You should not make yourself....vulunerable."
Am I? I didn't know that i was...well maybe i did. Maybe I didn't care. hmm
the conversation stayed with me. rolling over and over in my head.
Why did i start playing with words again anyway? When did I?

Well nothing i say is THAT personal..nothing i wouldnt say in real life. I spoke about my E.D. to a room full of strangers on TWO occasions. I randomly confess sins in everyday conversations and quickly bite my lip.
See there are boundaries...

oh yes i always had trouble with those.
"Well you never know what someone may use against you...."
and that was very good advice. People are crazy...no one will walk up and introduce them self like "hello i am your internet stalker..." A stealth sneak attack? years in the future maybe? when i have long forgotten that i blogged all those blood clots...
maybe.

Part of me wanted to say...the things in my blog are hardly secrets and they are hardly weakness...If you think they are then i should never show you my real face!! These things are just conversations at the watercooler..little red herrings swimming about..

2007. i'm waving my arms about in a classroom. i'm painting the air with an imaginary brush and rambling to my class about the "personal energy blah blah in movements that you infuse into your painting...into your pallette. The vigourous way you mix the paint the repetive motion of applying it to the canvas..brush strokes...this is an impressionist technique right here, but you find your OWN style you see..." How much of ME did i give them? Well it doesn't matter anyway bc they were not paying attention. I got a small check and bought art supplies with it.

"I didnt know i loved you til i saw you paint. Then i knew"
"well" i replied. "i'm not painting, i'm conversing with the dead."

the unwritten story

Everytime i have myself almost convinced that i can live in a loveless medicated half life some one shows up to remind me that i used to believe in something.

she said love me and let me go
she said love me and let me live
im just not finished yet...some stories just remain unwritten, right?
some pictures just remain unfinished.

I asked him about it ..how he dealt with loss. He said, 'look really,..you know what i do? i just try not to remember okay. i dont want to remember...even your good memories are just reminders of what you don't have anymore. just shove it all down deep"

"god. is that what everyone does?"

"yeah. i guess. i don't know. or they go to therapy"

Social Anxiety Disorder

Let's Compare!

the bone shells beneath waves of flesh

I left the house to go get my oil changed saturday morning and i got back just in time to get ready for work on MONDAY morning and i never even got the damn oil changed. my purse is in one parish and my dog is in another. i won't be regrouped until tuesday...at least i get paid friday.
The house I returned to on monday was not the same one I left on Friday...I mean it was.... Everything was right as i had left it..1/2 a cup of coffee on my bookshelf, open bottle of water, computer moniter holding the last internet page i was looking at...it didnt look like I had even been gone and frankly, I dont remember leaving the coffee there. But i wandered off and got an idea and then another and then i had to get the screws for the stupid bathroom towel rack bc the scews it recquires ARE VERY RARE INDEED...and I did pay the rent, which was good and i went to shreveport and saw Chuck's play which was FABULOUS and he got a GREAT review and I am kind of in awe of actors. real ones, not just "theatre people" and if you have ever been on the fringes you know what the quotation marks mean. "oh we are art people...its okay for us to fill-in-the-blank

and i ate four spring rolls at Dahn's Garden and i am still a little un nerved about that. Esp since spring rolls are kind of gross...like condoms filled with chopped raw carrots. really.

and I didnt take the Strattera this weekend bc i just didn't want to be sleepy!! it is making me sleepy - i give it one more week before i quit.


i know a woman who is amazing....her art is so good it makes me cry. I never really had a hero before.

Savage C and i were discussing childhood heros once bc he has many of them and i couldnt figure out why I didn't...
Eventually i was like..well i just didn't need one i guess.
I didn't need a hero bc i didn't know how horrid the world was bc i lived in an imaginary world.
with talking deer and magic streams and miraculous plants and stories of panthers roaming the forest
and banshees swooping down at night...screaming a mournful tale..
all the tragedy was in the past. In the dirt i played in.

So maybe that is why i made up villians
when they first gave me zoloft i anthropomorphized "him" into a wizard
we were going to FIGHT SOMETHING...something dark and mean..a shadow slipping across my brain.

I don't understand why I think/feel/look awful fat to myself but the people that are scientifically, factually, numerically BIGGER than me look fine and normal and great.

bc its not True about me. its a fantastic lie i tell myslef...so i will have something to fight instead of fighting for my ART or JOB or MONEY or RELATIONSHIPS. its all very lonely, you see.

and of course that is not ALL of it but sometime i just tell myself back the story of myself bc it makes me feel better
even if it may not be true.


So when we bloggers disucss REPLACING..as in "if i cant starve i cut and if i cant cut i drink and if i cant drink i count and if can't count i cut and if i cant cut i smoke and on and on....did anyone else Replace.. with HUMANS? like...if i can't be ocd about my behavior i will become completely OBSESSED with ONE PERSON and create the most co-dependent relationship on the planet?
yeah cuz I did and i may have been physically healthy and sober (for a bit) but i was severely emotionally crippling myself and another person.

Sometimes in my car..the music is just so good i turn it up so loud ..just surround myself with sound so thick..
music and art truly are therapy ..sometimes i just rock out.

I Don't Draw I Make Pictures

I had been imagining everyone in their own little suffering sacks, tied away, unable to escape or really connect with anyone.
I imagined myself like that...in a Bell Jar of sorts...but made of a thinner substance...and more smothering...

I have my entire life drawn in black bound sketchbooks and lined up on the shelf.
Now, I find some of the pictures from when i was sicker very painful to look at...but they were all true, nonetheless.
So funny, several times throughout my life I had well meaning teachers suggest that art was not my thing, not my gift, and maybe i should focus on something else. and maybe i should have but I just couldn't stop. I tried.

and then later well meaning professors suggested I make art that was less morbid. But, really..i tried...i just felt like I had to tell the truth.

and the truth seemed kinda morbid.

I had really sort of made my own little world of pictures and hunger and hurt
and I gazed out...really terrified and confused...and sick.
But I mean, i never really gave up i guess. Or i wouldnt be here.
and that is good, right.? right. okay.

a Girl named Green

So if you were one of the lucky few to receive a text message from me that said "i am on I-49 with a fucking flat i LOVE LIFE" here is the fall out from that eggggsperience":



BLOW OUT. yeah i took pics, on the side of interstate, i did. i took pics bc
i aint never had a tire BLOW OUT like that. I mean, i ve had a flat but that thing exploded.
and scared the h-e double LLLLLLLs outta me. i got more gray hair when that happened - I felt IT!!
so then...i just texted people..but ONLY people that were STATES away and could not possibly help me.
however and Lo and Behold...Charles Randy rescued me....
again

(he is getting really good at that)

i had just written the most freak out blog ever bc everything had gone wrong and i thought
things couldnot possibly get worse and then that tire....


but yeah everything is great now or at least TONS better even though now my brakes are going out and i am too poor to fix them but if they go out and i crash i wont text you don't worry.

oh except jacob got me this badass OWL necklace and i freaking RAN OVER it in my car and now its wing is all bent and im wearing it anyway bc i think it is the greatest metaphor EVER
bc i always wanted wings but im sure if i had them at least one would be all jacked up

and here is ellie in her NEW BACK YARD, she is liking it i think. i was afraid she would act all ready to leave, but i think i miss Robbins more than she does.



Right after i took this i went to see what she was barking at and it was
BIG FAT HUGE CAT THAT LOOKED JUST LIKE WILLFORD BRIMLEY
i thought he was gonna start tellin us a bout his diabetes.

and then here is this pic i love bc ellie looks like a chimp

that is me and ellie hangin out on our new stair case.

so as long as ellie's dog dander does not kill my housemate then things should go okay
and ..deep breathe..and and and everythingwillbejustfine.
justfine.

Road To NowHere

Where are you going? Are you leaving or arriving? There is a message for you, written in the sky... in a language you cant understand.... so you just run in place. spinning on sugar.

You can stop being, but you can't stop moving. You can refuse and shut down inside but the machine just keeps on rockin all around you...and you are a part of it and you cant get out..not really. Time Stop Spells don't work, they never did. They seemed to..bc yr body shrank back, recoiled in horror from the World. And you may can stop it from growing...and participating ..but you can't stop it from Aging. You really have no control at all in that respect. I would say that the appearance of age is not as troublesome as the fact of it. The lost time...the ticking clock. the mistakes you made and the mistakes you didnt make.
my skin is an aging scroll with my story written on it ...written in a language i don't understand....am i coming or going..on this road to now..here?

You Don't Want This

I found this drawing when cleaning out...reminded me....of what I don't want.

widow's nest

ahem. sorry my posts have been random firings of estrogen bombs lately. i feel like a black widow....and angry one. Love is a hostile category for me..and the moving is exciting but stressful. i feel a little like i got ran out of my nest...an angry bird. I have a tendency to over react sometimes. And i am very lucky to have on-line friends and in-person friends and they mean much to me and when getting hurt by one person... it helps so much to remember that.

Besides the weirdness at work and moving, I found a box of my ex's things in the attic, which had to be returned. I was glad my mom there, and she didn't let me dwell on lost time. (I'm over him But not really over my twenties) Still, that was an awkward find, to say the least. But then again, i am kind of awkward in general. But that night, afterward, i dreamed that i pulled a black string out of me...out of my cheekbone. and on the end was huge disgusting meaty wad of.....grossness. i was horrified and my mom was there and she said oh its okay, just let it go, its not dangerous.

i really think that was a symbolic dream. A letting go dream. A Getting RId Of Dream. Maybe it is good to get out of that nest.