Should I Write A Book?

Yesterday I made a Facebook post in an attempt to deal with some obsessive thoughts I was having, thoughts I have often, that drag me down. Sometimes I can't stop thinking about childhood traumas, and it gets too heavy, feeling like it all happened for nothing, so I share about it. 

It's maddening to be haunted by a past you never chose, and feel like you're helpless to move past it. I want to do something more than occasionally bring up uncomfortable stuff in an attempt to bring awareness to unhealthy relationships within families, but how can one little hillbilly girl's childhood, too often dangerous and terrifying, become a catalyst for something positive? How can it be given purpose?

Communication definitely feels like the answer. Maybe sharing my experiences with abuse and neglect, and living with PTSD and OCD, can make a difference to someone out there. Am I deluded to think that could be helpful to more than just myself? I'm already talking myself out of it.

Healing Is Just Skin Deep

My mind is so full of things to express, but my heart is always telling me to hush up. I don't have answers; only questions. Things that shaped who I am seem noteworthy, but some of them feel so shameful. I committed no atrocities, but was subjected to quite a few.

Why, why, why do the negative experiences stand out so sharply in contrast to the normal, acceptable ones? I wish I could just forget the trauma, but who would I be?

My faith gives me hope, but it also leads me to think I should attribute some of who I am to the evil that's plagued my life, and I don't want to romanticize those nightmarish experiences. In so many ways I am those memories, and I can't forget them. Maybe I should, but I can't.

Everything leaves its mark. Time heals wounds, but the scars are so much more than just skin-deep.

Tiny Personal Triumph ,Yo.

Hello there, Blogosphere! 

Long time no see. Compose. Read? It's been a longer break than I'd intended to take way back when blogging, like a lot of things, had become a source of looming anxiety. I never had more than a handful of folks stopping by, but I liked those regulars, and felt like I was letting them down each time I neglected to write. The pressure to be cheery, clever, entertaining, or whatever expectation I'd self-inflicted became too much.  As a slightly mildly full-on neurotic mess, I couldn't deal with that pressure, so I stopped.  

All that being said, I'm finally learning that my feelings are just as legit as everyone else's, even if they don't exactly make sense. I think I'm in a much better head space now, and feel like I can balance being a comical wife, full-time artist, pet mom, and occasional blogger. Tiny personal triumph, yo! *thrusts tightened fist in air* 

So here I am blathering on about self proclaimed mental stability. What's new with you? I and my husband (I call him Mr. T.) still live in the boonies, adopt stray/rescue critters whenever we can, and are just as weird and wonderful as we've ever been. We celebrated our eleventh wedding anniversary in March, and welcomed a bouncing baby bulldog into our lives right before last Christmas. 

Let me introduce you to Oona Louise, our newest addition, and my bestest friend. If you'd like excessive updates on her, she has her own Facebook fan page. 

Later gators. Talk to you soon! *mwah*

Come Find Me!

Hello out there! I'm posting over HERE today, so please head on over. Leave me a comment there, won't you? The North Alabama Crafters are a wonderful group of creative folks working hard to save handmade, and promote local business. If you're an artists and/or crafter in North Alabama, please join us!

Baggage

Doesn't it always seem like characters on television with "baggage" get to move on once they've talked about it? They make some sort of emotional breakthrough followed by tears, hugs, and things starting to mend. I'm clear on the fact that things depicted on Private Practice aren't exactly factual. It's just how I expect it to be.

Talking about unpleasant things does make things feel better, right? I feel like it does. Verbalizing the trauma releases something. It releases that feeling in my chest, that weight. Why, then, do I have residual "baggage"? Why, after all the talking, expressing, searching...why do I still feel...ashamed? I'm not even sure if that's the right word. It's guilt, or something like it. Maybe I need to talk to a therapist. Maybe just telling isn't enough to deal with everything.

I'd really hate to think that being molested as a child has to haunt me until the day I die. I mean, I'm thirty. It's been twenty-two years, and I have daily reminders of the damage done to me all that time ago. Done to me. I know I was a victim.

Fault does not lie with me, I know. I tell myself that I was too young to understand what was going on. But why do I tell myself that at all?! It's like deep down I think it was my fault. Somewhere deep down I must believe that I'm somehow guilty. I should have told someone. I should have known what was happening was evil, and screamed my lungs out. Instead, I what? Zoned out? Didn't understand? Buried it?

I blocked it out for eleven years. Whatever that means. I understand that it was something unintentional that took place in my brain, and it happened as a way to cope. I know that, and I'm thankful that I've dealt as well as I have. I'm actually a happy person. I'm married, have friends, and do what I love every day. Still, though, I feel like blocking it out hindered me from making it stop.

My abuse started when I was around three years old, and it stopped somewhere around eight. That's when my mother and I moved ten or so hours away. I have no idea how many others were hurt in all that time, besides me, because I unconsciously shoved what was happening to me into a dark corner of my head.

Maybe talking about it helps let off pressure, but it just builds back up over time. I just keep hoping and praying that this "baggage" will one day be lost in transit.

Shop Update!

Hiya, folks!

Just a quick little post to show ya a few of the new listings in my etsy shop. I've been bad about making art, but not making time to get them listed. 

See anything you like? Feel free to favorite and buy! If you ever have a custom job in mind, let me know. I'm more than happy to do commission work. And I'm cheap!

Something Unconventional II

Here to find out what undergarments have to do with art? Well, a friend asked me to participate in The Painted Bra Art Project to help raise awareness for breast cancer, and funds for a local lady battling cancer.

I wanted to focus on the hope of overcoming, but also recognize the seriousness of breast cancer. I kept thinking of Gustav Klimt's Death And Life, but didn't want to go so dark as to focus on human mortality. Then I remembered Emily Dickinson's poem entitled "Hope." 

Hope is the thing with feathers 

That perches in the soul, 

And sings the tune--without the words, 

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard; 

And sore must be the storm 

That could abash the little bird 

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, 

And on the strangest sea; 

Yet, never, in extremity, 

It asked a crumb of me.

Perfect, right?! I mean, I have a thing for birds - owls specifically. They've always been a symbol of hope for me - hope through dark times of confusion or helplessness. Hearing them in the night was such a comfort to me as a child, and even still today. Then there's the whole "hooters" thing, and this Dickinson poem giving Hope feathers! 

So I decided to have an owl representing life and hope, and an owl skull to signify the threat of mortality. Since I wanted the positive to be most prevalent, I covered the rest with different symbols of life - flowers, etc. I hope it makes sense to people. Heck, they may not even put that much thought into it. I'm an obsesser, though. Why else would I put so much into a cartoony bra painting!

Here's a couple shots of my submission.

I was more than happy to take some time to do it, and it was pretty fun. There's going to be a big event the end of October where all the bras people painted/donated will be on display, and there's a silent auction to sell the painted braziers. You should check it out, if you haven't already. Just click the links below!

The Painted Bra Art Project

Online Auction

Something Unconventional I

I've painted on some of the strangest vehicles lately. A while back I agreed to donate some time working on a collaboration piece for a fundraiser. I ended up having to paint two areas on a life preserver. It was a little weird at first, and definitely challenging to work the acrylic paint into the texture of the float, but it was nice to paint on something unconventional. I decided to go with an octopus, and some fishies with an anchor.

The most recent art donation might top that, though. Check out the next post to find out what it is! I'll be posting it Saturday at 10:30am.

 I'll give you a hint. Undergarment.

Instagrammin'!

photo credit

How many of you guys have been sucked in by Instagram? I am utterly obsessed. I was always annoying with a camera, but now I can keep up with other people that are as photo-enthused as I am! I am an amateur photographer for sure, and all my photos are taken with my iPhone 4S.

So if you're not following me, you should! I'm @theheatherrose, and I even have an Instacanv.as account. Leave your instagram name in the comments, and I'll follow you, too. We can stalk each other shutterbug style, and it'll be grand!

Here's a little sneak preview of some of my photos:

Close to Home

High Falls

Lake Michigan

Rufous Hollow

Hiya, folks! How the heck are ya? I haven't got the time to read blogs that I had last year, so drop me a comment to let me know how you're doing. I think about you guys regularly, and hope you're well. That is if any of you "faithful few" are still around the blogosphere. 

Something I did find time for this year was getting my old tattoo covered. I've spent YEARS hating the snail tattoo I got when I was sixteen. I kind of felt like I just had to deal with it, since I promised myself that I'd only get ONE. I don't see myself with sleeves, and that's where I'd be headed without a strict one tattoo limit. I love them SO. I even have regular body modification dreams. 

Without further adieu, I'd like you to meet my little red phase screech owl, Rufous Hollow.

Rufous is my own illustration, and the amazing Greg Ross made him into an awesome coverup.

P to the S

My artwork is copyrighted, so it belongs to me. Just sayin', so I don't have to hunt anyone down to chop off my work. If you ever want to get a tattoo of any of my work, please ask me. If someone else isn't wearing it already, I'll happily give you permission.

Exciting News

During my most recent blogging hiatus, I wrote and illustrated another children's book! It's the second in my Cadence series, made specifically for a certain awesome munchkin I've been blessed to know. 

This book features a little girl that has so much fun playing with her stuffed animals and pets during the day that she doesn't want to go to bed at night, but then she remembers the fun she can have in her dreams.

Cadence and her two best friends, Duck and Pig, flying in her dreams.

If you're interested in purchasing one of my books, you can do so HERE!

I'm planning on publishing an alphabet book this year, too. I just have to finish work for other folks first, so keep a weather-eye out!