She Looks Like the Real Thing.

This is what I look like on a typical summer night. I've been painting for hours the past few weeks, my only company being a few glasses of cheap wine and the sweet covers Jarrett has recorded for me with his phone (with an exception of Thursdays; I paint with Kidsart's adult class, like always). I'm really starting to feel proud of myself, and that's really strange for me to say. I don't have a lot of confidence in myself or in my artwork. I remember Crystal would have to reassure me constantly that I possessed some talent and skill whenever I was upset about it. I think I'm slowly starting to believe her. I don't feel silly when I tell people that I'm an artist anymore. I'm trying to build up my portfolio, so that it is the finest representation of who I am, as an artist. It feels great to replace those silly pencil portraits and still life's that no longer read me. It feels even better to finally know and understand what direction I want to go with my art.

On a completely unrelated and somewhat sad note, my mother is at home today, instead of at work. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells constantly. When I left my room for one second to grab a bite to eat, she went ballistic about my hair (I re-shaved it down to a '2'). It hurt me a little more than I'd want to admit, because just two weeks ago, we had a an intense family fight and make-up. And the biggest thing we fought about was the fact that I was not the daughter she had intended on having. She couldn't get over the fact that I am someone with radical ideas and opinions, and won't hesitate on voicing them. The lifestyle in which I choose to live in is far too bizarre for her conservative ways, and she thinks my lack of normality with my appearance hinders not only my relationship with friends, family, and strangers, but also everything that I do.

Mom, when I was young, you taught me that I should never judge someone for how they look. You taught me that as long as I am happy with who I am, no one else should matter. You also told me that no matter what I do, you'd support me. It kills me inside to see what a liar you are. Please get over this. If you ever want this to be fixed, you need to. I can't pretend to be someone I'm not, just for you.

mkp.

I Want to Be With You.

...more than anything, Jare-Bear.

mkp.

The Bars Are Gonna Break.

"We have to create. It is the only thing louder than destruction."

mkp.

So Far Away From Me.

{Enjoying the sun and the gentle, crashing waves in Ventura Beach}

Let's face it: I don't write in here as often as I would like. It's just been a little difficult for me to write, even though I have so much to say. Call it writer's block, if you wish. But I don't even think that would be the proper term. Busy? Distracted, perhaps? A lot has happened. A lot of bad things, but a lot more good. There was a huge blow between my mother and I on Saturday, resulting in a dreaded (but probably needed) "family meeting" on Sunday, which allowed us to address some things that have been put-off for too long. I'm really wishing for the best between her and I. She has a lot of accepting to do, and I need to grow up a little bit. All things considered, I think maybe she and I can actually have a relationship once we work on our issues.

{My beautiful baby cousin/sister/best friend and I being goofs}

Every summer, I spend countless days at Elizabeth's, eating junk food, watching films, talking all night long, falling asleep past 4 a.m., and waking up to a bountiful breakfast. She is my best friend. This year, we won't be spending so much time together. While we had a week together for my cousin's wedding back in June, we still hadn't had much time for just the two of us. I shouldn't complain though. She is indeed, growing up. I met her British boyfriend before he left for home. And now, she's in the East Coast for a month.

{A preview of some of the artwork for J.'s mixed cd}

I've been on a cd-making frenzy lately. The one I made for my dad turned out to be a success and he plays it all the damn time. During the car-ride to the beach, he sang along to the words to every song, while I just smiled like a fool. I made a new one for Elizabeth, too. But this one that I'm making for J. is pretty time-consuming. Not only am I making a custom cd-holder, artwork, and booklets (I have issues), it's going to be a double cd. I've spent hours trying to get it to flow just right and I think it's finally coming together. Come Wednesday, it will be sent all the way to Nova Scotia.

{Silky, smooth sweetness just for me}

Since I mentioned J., it would only be fitting if I explained this. J. is 25 years old; J. is from Canada; J. has an adorable black lab named Magnum, and a morbidly obese orange cat named Gustav the Destroyer; J. plays and sings me covers of my favorite songs, then begs me to delete them (I never do); J. wears glasses and is a music-nerd, with a soft spot for westerns, cake, and tattoos; J. always makes me smile like an idiot, and fills my heart with warmth and silliness; J. is also a male. I don't really think that's a big deal. I can't help who I'm attracted to. But the last time I liked a guy was back in 2009, so it feels so new to me again. This may just be nothing. But what if it's not, and it turns into something more? I don't know. I'm just going to enjoy it.

{Across the Sea - Weezer}

And now every time I listen to this song, I can't help but think of J. I talk to him for hours, and the second we say goodbye, I miss him like crazy. We're not really across the sea from each other. But we're still so damn far. Way too damn far. Now I sleep hugging my pillow, wishing the distance could just disappear for a second. I never thought a Weezer song could make me so fucking emotional.

mkp.

Heart in a Cage.

There is a yellow bird that sings in my heart, a quiet tune that keeps me safe at night. She makes me believe that one day, I'll be alright, and everything will work out just fine. All this at home will eventually become a distant memory. But she is not free any more than I am; Not even to the confinements of the sky, but to the cages built by my bones. She is trapped inside of me. She is begging to be freed. Sometimes, I don't even hear her singing, I hear her crying. She's dying. But I would let her go. I could. I could give her the freedom she needs, but I don't. Because I'm afraid of the unknown, and I don't know what happens next in the story. I don't know if there is happy ending. And it fucking scares me, so I dare not let her go. I need her here with me. She is as reassuring as the first beams of light that come in the morning. I wake up, and I know that it's always a new beginning, no matter how bad it was last night. But she is flawed if she's not free. I hold this key, and I wear it around my neck. I gave it once or twice to people who I thought would, but never quite could, open it. I keep telling myself that maybe one day, someone will help me, because I don't even know how to begin with it. But now I'm screaming for my own freedom.

My bones are shaking off the make-up I have to wear to hide the bruises nestled on my face. My heart is pumping away the heavy fear snapping my veins shut. This pain in my chest won't cage me in anymore, because I've decided that maybe I am strong enough to do this, for once. And now, I'm sweating my fears away as if it were a fever. I'll look in the mirror tonight, and I'll tell myself that I'm finally setting me free.

mkp.

Death & Girls.

{Andrea Gibson - Crab Apple Pirates}

Today was a terrible day. I'm flat-out broke. I have a disgusting blood bruise on my face. I realized today that I miss her, and I can't stand that. But the worst thing about it, was being proven that I was wrong, yet again. I need to not let people walk all over me. I need to get it in my head that you're not a very good friend. At least Andrea is always there for me. She understands me, and she won't leave until I finally feel better.

mkp.

Morning.

{Done by my friend, Jennifer Bragg of Dark Matter Tattoo}

Finally, after planning, and talking, and thinking about it, I got some work done. The rib cage is not a very friendly area for tattoos, but it was the best kind of pain. I'm in desperate need of a job. And to find people willing to buy my artwork. Or donate, even. She still needs some shading and color, and I'm antsy for it to heal, and to finish her up. But no worries... I've been in love with Morning even before I got her imprinted onto me.

"Did you forget your yellow bird? How could you forget your yellow bird?

She took a small silver wreath and pinned it on to me

She said, 'This one will bring you love'

And I don't know if it's true, but I keep it for good luck."

mkp.