Ending, Beginning, Both the Same

I keep telling myself it's "understandable" or "it's natural" and it seems to help. Even landslides and earthquakes and tsunamis are natural. Understandable.

Change, turmoil, devastation. Rebirth, renewal. Nature is nothing if not ever-changing. Thus, change is purely natural. Anyway.

The lonely room I find myself in, it's comfortable and it's safe. I've lived my life unthinkingly, for the most part, and I was so terrified of change that I boxed myself into the exact situation I've dreaded.

What DO you do when you've lost touch with friends and family? Lost your job and your lease? Lost your relationship with a person you esteemed and loved more than was bearable at times?

I don't have a fucking clue or I would've been prepared for all of this. Basically, I'm telling myself until I believe it that change is natural. Even if it really fucking hurts. Being open to change is freedom. It's why nature doesn't stress itself out when transitioning from summer to fall, it just goes with the flow. It's all connected anyway. This is what I'm learning to hold as my truth, rather than the truth that said we'd be in love forever because it was meant to be. No, the truth is like the natural world, I suspect. Ebb and flow. Wax and wane. Destruction and reconstruction.

If it weren't for a few choice herbs, though, I doubt I'd feel this sane. I'm actually slightly happy about the unknown right now, which is an unbelievably huge step for me. I still ache like a rotten nerve, but I don't want to die and I don't want to be dead while living, so I have to feel and breathe and move and so that's what I'm doing. I'm trying to savor the moments when I do feel love for myself and the world around me. I used to focus ALL my love on this one person and it strangled us both. I never thought love could cause such pain, but it makes sense. It couldn't hurt so much without the depth of love.

But it's not all gone, nor is it all fixed. It's part of the universal ebb and flow, now. Nothing ever truly disappears. I do believe, as does he, that love exists like any other energy, that it can't be destroyed entirely, but it can change. And I know that we still share that love we always have. If only love were enough to pay bills, to pay rent, to buy food, or to make all the darkness go away. It isn't, even though it's unfair to love to blame it for perceived failures. Those failures are within the individual. I feel so awful for not taking my life seriously until now, after possibly losing my best friend for good. How could I have existed as I have for the past two years? It's unimaginable, but it happened and I have to learn from it yadda yadda. Sigh.

I just wish I had close friends. The quiet moments, like now, are so hard. I start to feel so anxious, so claustrophobic, even if I'm outside. Trapped in my mind. Blech. He's got friends to distract himself with. Heck, he probably relishes the lack of emotional compromise. I get that. That shit makes sense. I can't begrudge him wanting to live his life without the black hole of my anxiety. Fuck, I don't want to live like that either. And I guess he knew how much it would take to shock me into getting back into the driver's seat. I love metaphors. I also want to love myself like I never have before. I want to. And I kinda am. These are some of the most extraordinary developments in my life. The burgeoning relationship with sanity.

Anyway. My most exciting goals right now are to find gainful employment and to find feminist/pagan friends.

Things I'm Doing to Keep Sane:
1. DIY Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. Catch each negative-irrational thought and render it powerless with positive-rational thoughts.
2. Find the sunshine in each moment, if you can, when you need. Don't forget how it feels, the warmth, the brightness, the comfort. That's when you're loving yourself.
3. Feel gratitude. Toward the world, the universe, the Goddess. Toward change.
4. Take herbs that want to heal you, like St. John's Wort, Skullcap, and the other HERB-that-shall-not-be-named. We are so connected to the plant world, I believe nourishing one another is magick.
5. Meditate. I'm into meditating with the help of I-Doser, this strange little program that interacts with your brainwaves to calm, stimulate, or excite you. I'm not sure if it works like it promises to (does anything?) but I've felt remarkable during my few sessions.

Lists are good. So is this fucking weather. I haven't felt this healthy in ages. Thank you Spring, thank you Goddess. Gonna take the pup for a walk to a park, gonna enjoy the random experiences of the city, and I'm gonna job-hunt and work on Etsy until I feel accomplished. I mean, what I stand to gain from all of this, if I make it through alive, is absolutely thrilling. A dynamic life, one that I actually want and strive for, rather than a meek existence of fear and taking what I could. Bah. No, I don't do myself justice, I know. It's not all this black-and-white.

The fact that we experienced such good things together means that despite all the bad, it is possible to feel exhilaration and love and joy, not just heartbreak. I'm gonna go with that. It's all good. Mostly. Anyway.

Tuesday Without Rain (Finally)

Eleanor Wood

me

The Nonist

EbenKling

me

How marvelous is that collage from Eleanor Wood?

I made the last picture for my sweetheart (the hippie-haired centaur) for our second anniversary many moons ago. I tried to salvage what I could from four years of high school French classes, but I probably botched it, but it's okay because I suspect that between the two of us, I paid way more attention in class. Please pardon the sneaky cat hairs on the frame, which was made by wrapping a thrifted wooden frame with faux suede and then gluing on lace strips. The image was inspired by an old illustration I found in a Dutch Graphic Design book from the 60s. It all turned out way better that I was expecting (note: I always set out with low expectations so I'm always pleasantly surprised) and the faces made me happy. He loved it, of course. If it wasn't out on display it was stowed safely away with his few "special" mementos.

Then I ripped it up after a fight last year and was immediately the world's silliest asshole. Has anyone else ever done something that ridiculous and awful and shameful?

After we calmed down, we picked up all the pieces. I just haven't had the heart to put it back together.

friday with rain

"Strange" and "sad" sum up my headspace this week. This year. Every year? I just don't think the rest of it means anything without the bittersweet, mind-bending, heart-aching parts. Some people focus more on it, the strange & the sad, and that's just fine. I just wish I were as adept -- adept as say, Rozz Williams, brilliant dark magickman -- at channeling said brainwaves into something helpful. Helpful as in, a psychic hand-holding with other beautifully melancholic minds. Music, images, words, the results of creative transformations nothing short of magick. I like them. Others like them. It's the beauty of being human, seeing, feeling, thinking, appreciating the thoughts, sights, and feelings of others. Why? What's it all for? The infinite unknown? I don't know. And around we go.

My brain is constipated. Bloated, churning gassy, painfully unproductive. Sigh. Brainfart. Sigh.

possibly disturbing thoughts ahead

You know what absolutely breaks my heart?

That we're living in a patriarchal hegemony, one that fetishizes sleazy sex and rape.

I browse this particular site for movie recommendations of the cheesy, horrific wtf? variety, and usually I'm scanning over lots of Eurosleaze/pornsploitation crap, but this time I happened to catch a glimpse of a Japanese series of movies about -- yeah, you got it, rape. Pure and simple. I've known this stuff existed. And look at today's headlines, it's hard to ignore that it's been a common element of human civilization since genitals were invented. But, um. I almost threw-up. There are positive comments about this film series (from men, I'm totally comfortable assuming) and it's disgusting and it just overwhelmed me that THIS is what pleases many people.

And we're in a patriarchal system. Have been for... well, let's just say it almost doesn't even matter. Pinpointing the switchover would involve discussions of religion and I shouldn't go out of my way to offend the theoretical handful of people who may actually read this. Nevertheless, we are living in a patriarchy that's rewarded the achievements of men for millenia.

And why are so many of these achievements so violent and disturbing in nature? Honestly? Rape-based PORN (fer chrissakes, isn't most porn exploitational enough?) and videogames (yeah, Google it). Rape as exultation in competitions ("I'm gonna rape you, faggot/you got raped!"). Rape as accepted sex act for many misogynistic cultures 'round the world. Rape as daily occurrence for victims of war-torn countries.

Whatever progress is made is continually retracted by the slightest things, such as your son telling his gaming partner that he got raped. By their dueling digital avatars. How does that even make sense?

What could possibly save us from ourselves? Education? Since when has educating the public affected visceral change in individual hearts?

I have no solutions, only a heart-sickness that will follow me to my grave, I'm sure.

Thanks for reading this. Sorry if it hurt you as well.

Oh, and here's a brilliant article from Naomi Wolf about the sad, pervasive effects of porn culture and a transcription of a powerful speech from Rebecca Whisnant. I believe as sex has become less potent and more exploitative, that invoking rape has become less troublesome.
'As Robin Morgan famously put it in 1974, “Pornography is the theory, and rape is the practice.”' Again, I'm gonna blame supporters and blind participants of our patriarchy (particularly men) for this awful, insane mess.

teensy update

I'm feeling good. People are supporting my strange (and sort of malnourished) little shop, my bearded partner and I aren't stressing each other out as much, we found a sandy-grey tabby kitten next door in the overgrown lot, hiding beneath a smashed car, we just got some sushi from Whole Foods, and we spent the day ransacking Philly Aids Thrift (PATS) for the ugliest Christmas sweaters we could find. As I type, we're listening to Little Richard & Jimi Hendrix's AMAZING record, Together.

If anyone who's made a purchase recently is reading this: thank you to infinity and beyond, you are making my dreams into realities, and I appreciate it more than a non-physical blog entry can say.

The Christmas sweaters, btw, are for our Halloween costumes. Oversized Christmas sweaters, classy red turtlenecks, and bright, tight red & green pants equal an amazing vision. Once we have some fake presents, fake blood and blue face-grease, we'll be set. Yeah, I think the idea is that the holiday shopping season turns people into zombies. Eh? Zombies are a bit too weirdly trendy considering their social commentary, but this just feels right.

Happy -- what day is this? Okay, Wednesday. Happy Wednesday to anyone (anyone?) who's reading this. I hope you don't regret spending these few minutes here.

on my mind

Matthias Grünewald - The Temptation of St. Anthony
Matthias Grünewald - Temptation of St. Anthony (close)
Peter Max - Outer Space

Sweet Beasts

Colored pencil, pen, acrylic on watercolor paper

I've been a doodler ("artist") since forever, but I've always struggled to capture my ideas on paper. It's a common struggle, often satisfying, occasionally grounds for depression, but nothing short of human magick, when the feat's been realized. That's why I'm so thrilled about these new creatures that have been appearing, they're small but so perfect (in my brain). It's like: "Oh, you're just how I imagined you!" with an immediate burst of fondness.

a must-have

Oh man, I could've really used this, like, twelve years ago. Edit: Oh, I found this on Amazon.com; it's only been within the past few years that Labyrinth's gotten its exploitativepast due line of Ludo plushes and Jareth figures and this -- the official Jareth pendant.

Updates

Updating the shop with free shipping offers and new original illustrations. Check it out at Fantastic Beasts.

Oh, Dear

Ray Fenwick (via booooooom)

My new forever favorite.