Coming Out from the Shadows
A bitter bitch spreads her wings like malnourished lil' bat
I wouldn’t be a Gemini without a chaotic return to Substack a year after my last post. Somewhere between Existentialism and Nihilism is where I’ve found myself lurking about. It’s exhausting, have you been here before? It’s a familiar feeling cave drenched with the stench of something that feels comforting but is probably not healthy. And the only way to pull myself out of this muck is action. Less ruminating, more movement. Get outta there Moorea!
I’ll share reflections on how I got in this funky in a not cool way space when I have more clarity. The screaming immediate is calling for commitments + turning some elements of life upside/right side up. Here’s what I’ve been up to this week now that a hint of clarity has shone a light in my right eye.
The Artist’s Way Living the Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron
Whoops, I thought I bought the Artist’s Way and instead I got ‘Living the Artist’s Way.” Whatever, I’m doing it.
Morning pages - I’ve been journaling in the morning for the first time in years. YIKES, turns out I am angry. Seeing the thoughts I’ve been holding with a vice grip in my dense ass brain has been uncomfortable and icky and good. Holler at me if you too were raised to be sad and not allowed to express anger.
Writing for Guidance - The lovely author Julia reaaally brought out the pissed of rebel in me with this prompting. You want me to talk to God? to Pray? To write to myself and then trust the “voice” that responds? My immediate response to this was a rumble from the depths of my soul, a bratty and resentful, pissed off teenager who screamed oh HELL NO. I ditched Christianity 15 years ago and I also miss believing that I have a sky daddy. And so, I resentfully accept this challenge.
Artist Dates - take myself on an inspiration date each week. I did not do this yet.
Walks without dog, friends, partners, music, phone, etc - I’ll get there.
Tune In, Drop Out Social Media
I’ve been an admirer (JEALOUS + ENVIOUS) of Lord Cowboy aka Sky aka Anna Fusco for years. This beautiful angel was hollering to the masses, “free ye selves from your social media addictions for a month with me!” and I said, OKAY.
This crusty rusty lil ol me deleted Instagram, Tiktok, Facebook, and Pinterest from her phone. And so I’ve returned to Substack. “You are welcome,” I tell myself and you, dear reader.
Making Art
I’m about 0% inspired to make pretty paintings. And I want to make despite sloughing through the resentment puddle I am finding myself swimming in. I painted 2 sets of 4 tiny batch paintings this week, and I only hated half of them. The other half is fine. I also painted a vase of flowers and that felt 70% good.
I collaged some silly things on to the cover of my Morning Pages notebook and the angsty teen that currently operates my emotions felt satisfied. Love that for her. I also collaged some stuff on my Guidance journal, and non-existent sky daddy said, “it’s a vibe.”
I’ll be asking humans to purchase my art while in a booth at the Bainbridge Island Art Museum - Summer Art Fair on Aug 2nd & 3rd. Wish me luck that I can make lots of art that I like to share with folks there!
CD’s are Back
I’ve held onto my cd collection from my teen-dome and college years for too long, and now I think they’re cool again. Bless the vintage mall gods (currently in the running to replace my desire for a sky dad) for gifting me with a used cd player that is actively playing a mixed cd I burned for the college radio show I once had at the age of 19. Nostalgia is a balm.
Do Chores + Make Money
The Emo kid in me really hates the patriarchy, Capitalism, and other stuff that adult me also greatly dislikes. Again, my own resentment has been running the ship for a little too long and I don’t know how to resolve my fuck Capitalism attitude with Oh GOD I own a house and I need to make money to pay the bank who technically owns the house. We shall be exploring this together.
I’ve been working at a museum for on and off a year and a half now. It’s not enough at all to financially support my basic needs. But I care about the community within it and outside of it, so I’m still there. The non-profit world has done it’s due diligence of beating down my spirits + hopefulness and increased my anger towards elitism + classism, which I thought had already been maxed out. If you’d like to see the public statements I’ve made in regards to the canceling of a private event at the museum, pushed to be canceled by 3 members of the museum board, a play called “One Family in Gaza,” you can see those in this The Burner article, this article by the Bainbridge Island Review, this article behind a paywall for the Kitsap Sun Newspaper and this letter.
I want to nanny again. I am so burned out on adult lies in the workplace, in the government, in everyday life. I need to fill my ears with the absurdism and lies of kids that make me laugh and give me hope in a different generation.
Owning a house for the last year and a half has been a mindf*ck. Simple as that. I just need to do the chores and not trip out too hard about this beautiful responsibility.
This is a list of, wait what? Commitments and Topsy-turving my life-ish. Its the beginning of habits I want to solidify. Its a pile of mess thoughts and reflections and considerations. And from this garbage heap WILL be something worthwhile. I’m creating the earth mom I need while dismantling that yearning and hatred for sky dad. This space feels more solid and real than the social media platforms I have filled my time and eyeballs with. This might even get me to clean up my damn website, get back to exercising, consider thinking I’m kinda cute, maybe even hot someday WHEN I see evidence of consistency amidst my Gemini chaos. I want to get back to the writer I have been, once was, can be and will be. I want to embody the artist I’ve aspired to be my whole life and overly critiqued at the same time. EMBRACE is what I want to do with this one and precious substack I mean life. A documentation, like the stacks of journals I hold from childhood and teen years and college, yes unhinged and organized documentation, this is what I’m hungry to create, consume, and fertilize my earthly existence with.
Tell me, dear reader, tell me you too have had this periods of regression in your own special way, and that I, like you, will claw my way out again. By the earth auntie I need to be my own earth mama again. I can do this. With your hype and your help.
Love you,
Moo
Felt in my soul🫶🫶🫶