Illustration Friday--Under the Sea

I'll Cover You from Rent on the i-pod . . . a little addictive. . .

With You

When You Can't Take It Anymore. . .

Scarily Prescient

"When facisim comes to America, it will be wrapped in a flag and carrying the cross."

--Sinclair Lewis

A Doll's Life

I Will Cut You

Vacant

Working in a new journal tonight. I went to Pearl today and got several different sizes. One of them will be for notes on the new business I'm considering. I want to combine my career planning background--helping people figure out what they want to be when they grow up--with some more creative, artistic approaches to figuring it all out. I get a huge amount of satisfaction out of helping people get really clear about who they are and what they want from life. Hearing someone say to me, "You've changed my life," is what I live for. Unfortunately, it hasn't happened much lately, so something must definitely be done.

Broken

One of the things I love about Darvin is how he's given me back my creativity. Three years ago when we met, I was working through a lot of things and poetry really saved me. One that I wrote was this:

Broken
I am,
like a shattered glass,
brittle brilliant shards of me,
glinting, shiny.
I will cut you.

Broken
I say,
like a car that won’t go,
all promise and no action,
running on empty.
I’m an unreliable ride.

Broken
I told you,
like the promises we made
to our children,
to our lovers.
Good intentions:
“I’ll protect you.”
“You can count on me.”
the lies we told ourselves
and them.

Broken
I am,
I say,
I told you.

Why couldn’t you hear me?

It was a warning to him, of course, but fortunately he didn't listen. Instead, he held and comforted me and helped me put the pieces back together. These days it's harder to relate to these feelings as I once did, although I never forget that they are inside me. Sometimes it's good to take them out and look at them for awhile, if only to remind me of how far I've come.

I want to rock your Gypsy Soul. . .

For some reason, Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic" has taken over my brain. I get like this--a little obsessive . . . so I'll just play it about 100 times until I can't take it anymore. I'm only on the 4th run through, so a little ways to go . . .

We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic
Hark, now hear the sailors cry
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic
And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home
And when that fog horn blows I want to hear it
I don’t have to fear it
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
Then magnificently we will float into the mystic
And when that fog horn blows you know I will be coming home
And when that fog horn whistle blows I want to hear it
I don’t have to fear it
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And together we will float into the mystic
Come on girl...

Illustration Friday--Spring Again

Making up for a lack of monsters and feet for Illustration Friday recently.

True Lies

Since Darvin and I met three years ago, we've had a running discussion about the nature of women, with him insisting that men can be as mistreated as women in relationships. So, for Darvin, an homage to the Black Widow.

Her pig nose frightened the children so she pretended she was a poorly drawn cartoon.

I'm coming to terms with the fact that I cannot draw noses for shit. Seriously. I try, but I just can't seem to get them right. When I do, it's a mistake of the pen that I can't recreate. So at least I can make fun of myself.

Illustration Friday--Spring

It goes without saying that Persephone's return from the Underworld would be my favorite spring story.

They Grow Up

I love how sometimes you can look into someone's eyes and see their baby self, hidden away inside. It feels like a gift to me, that they're willing to show it. I'm not always sure that they know they have, but when they do, my heart melts.

Desire 2

Escape

With Darvin, I never feel this way. I think a lot of other women do, though.

She's Vicious

The quote is from my husband, a man who loves a vicious woman.