An Explanation -or- You Probably Think This Post Is About You

FOREWARD: If you want the full experience you have to click links and listen to music and pay attention to lyrics and read and shit like that.

If you don't wanna do any of that...byeeeeeeeeeeeee

If you do, HI!. Welcome to me.
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Intro theme song for this:

One of my facebook posts from last weekend:

I have so many things to say and it hurts to not really be able to

The replies and comments:

• Are you ok? *
• Here, try this [insert self-care advice and/or creative outlets]
• Start blogging again!
• We're here for you.
• Call me if you need to talk.

....and then the family gossip that my mom told me about. 

Because they check in with her instead of talking with me about it directly, but that’s another story for another time. **

Let’s be real - do you think that I’m the type of person to put out a call for serious help on fucking facebook? I know how to use a goddamn phone AND how to reach you in case of any sort of real emergency.

I’ve vented there, yes.

I’ve looked for attention there, yes. 
Isn't that what it's there for? The giving and receiving of attention.

I’ve somewhat opened up about certain feels there once or twice, sure. Who hasn't? There are a lot of us going through the same stuff and when we find each other relatable in low times it really is so comforting.

We’re all a bit hypersensitive and moody AF in these years, and I do appreciate you reaching out, those of you who did. You are the wind beneath my wings.

But SO MANY times, I’ve bottled up super hilarious quips and insanely ridiculous comments, too. Usually because having to explain it sucks the funny out and by then they’ve probably missed their moments, or it would take 20mins to explain and would only make sense to me anyway.

It’s called a filter. Some of you have them, too.

Others don’t…you cheeky bastards.

Let me put it to you another way.

I read this article years ago about popcorn brain. Google it.

Go ahead – I’ll give you a minute…don't be lazy. Just do it.

So, after the last 20+years living the majority of my life online, when I’m in conversations with people out in the “meat world”, and especially after a few drinks, and with you all on my phone and so accessible due to the loveliest of all inventions: Social Media…I tend to pop off at the mouth occasionally when I can’t contain ALL the bottlenecked thoughts that are rattling around the old noggin.

When I popped off last Saturday, I was in a fiiiiiiiine place which was almost entirely full of face hurting laughter and running into interesting characters. I have witnesses.

I’ll end this with 3 things:

•        Because my ramblings tend to take more than anyone really wants to read on facebook***
•        Because some of you have been poking me about this for a while 
•        Because I know it’ll help me to have this outlet which, who fuckin’ knows, might also help some of you.

I’m rebooting/reigniting my blog.

*dammit, I really wish my name were Annie now

**except you Deb. Thank you. Was nice chatting with you. and I don't blame them, cuz Janet kinda really fuckin' rules.

***it makes for good toilet reading in the morning

Outro theme song for this:


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Sunday Confession - A Dissection of Emo

"...I certainly don’t want everyone just to admire it or approve of it without knowing why." - VanGogh on The Potato Eaters.

"Art with a story behind it is the best kind, silly." - Martha M.

I made this 36x24 piece of whatever a few years back after my family fell apart. I treated it as an outlet for all the pent up crap being dealt with during this particular time in my life.
I've never really explained any of it in detail or have been comfortable enough to, but I've often thought about sharing it & how to go about doing so.
Time to nut up or shut up.
Plus, looking back at it - my style has changed a little and this looks like a kid did it.
Reckon that might've been my frame of mind at the time. Or maybe my style is just kid-like.
Not that my shit recently is great, or even good...it's not about that. It's about putting it out there.*
What if I died tomorrow and my family goes through all my crap and looks at this and they go all, "what the fuck is this?" on it and never know what it meant to me?

Right then...here we go:

The dollhouse torn into 4 parts: That's a B&W photo on cheap paper of the dollhouse my father's father built when I was a kidlet. Grew up with that house and there was a time when it was given to another family while I bounced around between apartments and whatnot. The house was returned to me about 5 years ago (a strange precursor to what happened a year later). Each torn piece represents a member in my immediate family. The upper left being my brother, me on the upper right (which is how our rooms were set up in the house we grew up in), my mother on the bottom left, and father on the bottom right. There's a round oil can stain on my father's section because he was a mechanic and antique boat restorer. My mom's section has cuts in it cuz she's a self-admitted emotional force and it amazes me that with so many fractures and cracks, she hasn't completely snapped. My brother's section is on fire with the bigger flame because he was in a wreck 8 years ago. The car he was in slid off of the road and into a tree, bursting into flames, killing both him and his friend that was driving. My section has the smaller fire - my brother's catching part of mine on fire....the flames a bit of a high-five between us.
My & my mother's sections have snippets of this song lining the edges.

The edges of the house are torn but being held together by a frayed and strained red yarn. Red for blood, of course, because we're family....& meaning that not even blood can really keep a family together.
Not when built upon an unstable foundation.

The Unstable Foundation: This area has a bit of a complicated meaning for it being such a simple shape. The instability under the house being a mix of sand and acrylic paint. It stems from my father coming out to my mother and I about 4 years ago. Their divorce followed shortly after but the house we grew up in was finally split and sold just earlier this year. My father has gone through a few boyfriends since the initial "outage" and we rarely speak. Mostly because when we do, I can't handle the dumb shit he says. Like the time he told me that if my brother had lived, none of this would've happened. Which is the other meaning for that section, for the sweeping & winding escape into the night sky, and because snippets of this song line the edges of that section and I imagine those words coming from my brother/me:


The Moon & Stars: Metaconfession: I have, what some would call, Pagan tendencies. Though the generic category label on society's filing cabinet for Belief Systems would have me under Agnostic....aspects of Paganism make a lot of sense to me. Balance & cycles. The moon is a Goddess symbol. The full moon has always been hopeful & comforting to me and along with her in the night sky, I included raised silver stars for an Orion and a dipper (or saucepan, as Kim B. would call it). Reminders that there are still things that...remain...***

And that about wraps things up.
For now.
Hope it wasn't too awkward and you feel like maybe you know me a little better.
If you have any thoughts or feelings or experiences to share, please...feel free.
If you have any shitty/nit-picky/snarky comments to make, please....also feel free because I've probably been lookin' for a reason to punch you in the crotch anyway.

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*plus it's a nice lead into next weekend's confession
***(I was going to put another word or three there, but "remain" seemed to be enough).

Happy Birthday, Brother

You'da been 30 this year.
We woulda set the world on fire in celebration.

I miss you every day.
Jason - May 16, 1982-November 27, 2005
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p.s.: This album will always make me think of you.  It was in your Jeep's cd player and I listened to it on loop for weeks afterwards.

Sunday Confession - Internal Battle

I haven't been posting on here much recently.
My attentions and creative inspirations are currently focused elsewhere.
Getting ready for Christmas and trying to get the rest of the Craft It Forwards done before the year ends.
I just haven't had too much to say here.

I will admit that I'm in a constant internal battle with the things that I would really like to write here but haven't because it puts too much out there.
Things that would open me up & make me vulnerable.
Also, I think some of the ideas I've had for things to post kinda make me sound like an emo ass.

Here's an example:

A while back I posted a crappy photo of a piece that took me about 2 yrs to finish.
BBI & my friend, Martha, asked some questions about it and I was going to do a little diddy explaining the whole thing, but then realized that it was turning into somewhat of a therapy session.

How much of that type of shit do I really want to put out there?

I'm just not sure of how real to keep this or what you'd all care to hear.
Maybe I need to go back to just keeping up with this blog as something for myself instead of considering you turds all the time.

Most days it feels like no one's reading this anyway.
I mean, seriously.....The top 2 most hit Brainure posts are:

1. How To Make A Pillory (or Stockade)
2. For The Person Who Has Everything But Can't Breed

If that tells you anything.

So why do I blog?
Because I enjoy sharing things with you & hope that you also enjoy these little peeks into my noggin.
It makes me happy that I can bring my friends with me on vacations & crap via my phone, laptop, or ipad.  Its like you turds are with me all the time, no matter what part of the country/world we are.
Also, I figure when I'm a million years old, alone, and senile, I can look back on these with fond memories.

Blarf....I'm over-thinking again, aren't I?
I should just keep in mind the name of this thing and post everything that goes though my head with wreckless abandon.
Its not like I'll be running for president someday.

Florence + the Machine - Ceremonials

If I could be any one else in the whole world, I would want to be Florence.
Even though she doesn't ride rollercoasters.
The music she makes is rollercoasters enough.



There's something magical about the mix of her voice, the drums, the harp, the lyrics....that pulls on you emotionally.  Well, on me anyway.  I can't speak for you turds.
I listened to this first song, "Only If For A Night" and was in tears about half way through.
The song's about her dead grandmother visiting her in a dream and giving her advice.

But it isn't sadness that makes me teary eyed, its an overwhelming amazement & joy that her music (and music in general) can make such an impact on people and evoke such emotion.

I've posted before an excerpt from her website that sums it up perfectly.  Go check that out.

You know how artists who find their niche and particular sound, the music starts to kinda run together a bit and each song sounds a bit similar to the one before it?
Florence doesn't do that.
Yes, you can definitely tell its them, but there's no running together.
I was worried about that with this album...how could they top Lungs?

Well, I'm insanely happy to say, they've done it.

Sunday Confession - Emo Piece

Its taken me 2.5 yrs to complete this and it still isn't done.

But its close enough for me to post a photo of it.

"Silver Lining"

36x24

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ps. sorry for the crappy shot. I ran out of good non-glaring light.

Will try again tomorrow maybe.

Throwback Thursday 2

Shut up...I know its not technically Thursday anymore by the time this finished up, but who the hell cares when I can make the date/time stamp say whatever I want it to??

BOOYAH!!

Click here.