Sketchbook Renaissance
Hiii!
I disappeared for a couple of months, mostly because now I actually have a job, and I tend to spend my free time thinking, cleaning, listening to music, talking to my friends, and suddenly it’s half a year later. It has been very weird. I’ve been obsessive about all these new random things (figure skating? the rugged self-love of discipline? the sound of scraped or cubed ice?). My world is upside down and I’m on a weird path (as opposed to a normal path).
I feel mellow and softened. I actually like people lately, on default. I want to shoot a short movie, and nothing will ever be enough. I think I’m gonna spend my savings on a purposeless trip to Canada. I finally managed to get some seeds to turn into seedlings and even dare I say, plants. Sunflowers and hot peppers.
On the topic of today though: I have been sketchbooking again!!!! Or like… From January to April I was. Now I’m using that sketchbook as a diary to write down my summer mood swing outbursts and panicked 5-year-plans.
I’ve been feeling weird having only this blog as an online self-expression because it feels like such a big deal, but it isn’t. It’s less public than an Instagram story. I have this self-repressing notion that if I am taking up space then it better be something really good. I keep loving imperfect things, but apply different standards to myself like some … faux self-aware person. Like when someone is only aware of their flaws and but proudly wears the self-awareness badge like they aren’t ignoring their 100 strengths and beautiful qualities. I try to stay away from being that person. Today I combat things bigger than myself by ignoring my own insecurities! Be inspired.
Here’s 6 contextless things I have written down recently.
Solar Return Requests. Two large craters have appeared, gaping open erotically and tragically. 1 of loneliness (ecological, and of older age) and 1 of sediment, leeches, corrosive substances, and atrophied ligaments. Request is being made in the name of Mother Earth: MOTHER!!! hear mhee. I want 100 effortless friends, never-ceasing hair growth, yet cancerless, pair of figure skates. I will learn to glide and fall and euphoria will fill my every limb. No more sangria ever. I want to have done so much that flowers gasp as I walk by and the bearsfoot unleash their pheromones to please me. And I never stop cumming ever.
I want to love everyone. I want to be a big sister.
I don’t care if people are mean to me, I carry my own comfort forward. That’s why I like Star Wars even though space scares me. It makes me feel small and insignificant. I love to feel big and purposeful. That’s why yesterday I did Bulgarian split squats until I couldn’t walk. I am going to be so large. Like a big horse. I tried to journal my thoughts away so that I could fall asleep but more thoughts are coming. My mind replenishes itself like cum in ballsack. I can’t stop thinking about the protein cookie I’ll have when I wake up. I’m looking at it right now. I know it will taste of thirst. But I want it, with a glass of water. Gratitude, when real, doesn’t make you feel scared or guilty. Those are fear and guilt. Real gratitude feels like a crunchy, juicy apple that leaks sticky water outside of your mouth. I wonder if I kept writing for 5 hours what sort of uninspired thoughts I’d reach.
740 × 82 really is 60680
A band called “To pierce the Cartesian fog” as a reference to both to Pierce the veil and The Caliban and the Witch by Silvia Federici. Can’t remember the name of that children’s show about cockroaches but it would be great for a music video collage for this band.
You shouldn’t read about rocks in your room. You should go and touch rocks. The air is jelly-like and I am in a childhood mist. The afternoon is thick with riddle. I breathe sweetly. Burdened with nothing. I have left the zone of soul death. I remember what it was like to be in a dark backyard as a seven-year old girl at a family vacation house, to touch the grass and be scared of the loud crickets in the darkness behind the fence. There was a small fountain and a squeaky canopy swing. White and green striped pillows. My cousin was there… I believe I can carry on through life if I stay like this. I am so sure. I will devote myself to this sweetness. These days of dawn & fawn are mine, a honeysuckle wind, a porous and unwanted goodbye. Tree bark scraping my knees as I relearn how to climb trees, as I heal my herniated disc by recited ancient spells. I am calm.
Enoughhhh. Here’s some pages of my winter/spring sketchbook. Not all. A slightly extended version might get turned into a zine eventually. I actually have 4 sketchbook zines ready to be printed at this point. I stopped doing bazaars though and an online shop is a headache, so… One day. Maybe! There will not be a summer/autumn sketchbook because I work out 4 times a week now. Since this week. In autumn I will be so big that no one will even notice I haven’t been doodling. My body is the mortal project I’ve been avoiding out of the misguided impression that paper lasts longer. I will be drawing 2 muscular centaurs soon, though. Maybe treading through mud and yuck. Maybe yellow snow.
