she's a storm

this painting is about me having the power to be a storm-maker in our house. things that i've done in the past that have hurt my family and that i'm so sorry for. the white cloud is supposed to be a tornadoe but it looks more like smoke. i suppose either interpretation works.

but there's light on the horizon! there's hope. maybe she won't destroy everything...

pills

this is what is keeping me up tonight. this morning. whatever. i've been out of my sleeping pills for about a month now. my mother has kindly been letting me use hers but they do not work as well as mine. i've been trying to get them from my doctors office but the nurse has been most unhelpful. i finally called the manufacturers this morning and was like, "what's up?". they supply my meds because i am poor. oh, the tragedy of the artist. anyway. they say they sent a six month supply, enough to last me to december 8th. excuse me? where are my drugs?

so. here's what i think. it's going to sound paranoid and deranged. but, hey, i'm crazy, right? i *am* taking crazy pills: cymbalta, geodon, and seroquel. seroquel is now the crazy pill in question. the manufacturers sent those pills to the doctors office for safe keeping. i get it. i'm crazy. don't trust the crazy people. the nurse says she gave me a big honking bottle of 380 pills. a six month supply. i was given a one month supply in august, and another in september. then the manufacturers pills ran dry. the nurse said my enrollment had expired. it had, after they sent that six month supply. so she started dolling out two week supplies from the samples, all the time blaming me for not filling out the paperwork. i know. my bad. but finally i did it and now they say they can't send me any more pills because they already did. now the lightbulb goes off. or on, as the case may be. i remember seeing a pile of six bottles in *my* folder the first time i was given that first bottle of pills. the nurse says that was everybodies pills. *cough* i *am* a crazy person. i have major depressive disorder and when i'm off my meds i hear voices. not "go kill people" voices, thank you, God. it sounds like a radio out of tune. can't hear what they're saying and sometimes they play decent music but i still don't like listening to that channel. so. i take meds and i don't hear them. i am not a paranoid person. i don't think people are out to get me.

but something isn't right here. and i'm just a crazy person being taken advantage of. what the hell do i do to get the meds the manufacturers are sending to *me*?!? what do i do about this dishonest person in authority over me? God, help me get this straightened out.

nose ring whoas

i love my nose ring. it's so happy! but my nose ring does not love me. the silly thing got *infected*. *on the inside*. hrmph. how disquieting. i changed jewelry cause this one was sticking out funny and then the next one popped out and i was like, "what the....". it's the dasterdley germs! so i haven't put the jewelry back so i'm gonna lose my hole (wa-la!) and now i've got an abcess or some such. antibiotics? drain the sucker? what to do? all of this comes from cooties, you know. they were right, on the playground. girls *do* have cooties. *nose* cooties.

growth

for this one i was thinking about that first hint of new growth when you start doing new things and you're *just starting* to change.

all my paintings are pretty much about myself. so self-centered, i know, but that's all i really know. me. so that's where i'm coming from.

here is my painting i did based on my hysterectomy. i'm so not good at painting hands. oh, well. i'm still *really* happy with how this one turned out. in class during the critique we actually started talking about the *meaning* of it, instead of just the technical aspects. yay! so i felt like it was well received.