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2004-04-17 @ 3:00 p.m. |
| My mother and my brother are currently engaged in a civil war and for some reason I have somehow managed to become the sole reason for it by merely existing. Don't you hate when that happens? Causing someone's angst by just being there. So my brother has flung yet another toxic e-mail at my mother, again blaming me for all his unhappiness because of her "apparent" idol worship of me. What? Did I miss something? I think the idol worship going on is less a case of wittykitty worship than mommy self-worship. And why can't he see that? Is he fucking blind? So I've been trying to have good days...going out, walking, taking in fresh air, doing art, volunteering my time to worthy causes and then when I come home, I've been getting slammed with phone calls and mail from the opposing sides and feeling really crummy about it. And it has happened the last three days in a row. Hey guys, can I throw up a white flag, since I'm not even involved in your feud. I don't appreciate taking shrapnel for something that happened before I was even born. Today, for instance, I came home after having a most excellent morning and afternoon, and there was a thick envelope from my brother in the mailbox. I have yet to open it and I really don't want to. I figure its probably filled with all sorts of acidy commentary and possibly spring loaded to go off in my hands. As in Ha, ha! No more sibling rivalry, just a blob of goo on the ceiling! I had thought of just sticking the envelope back in another envelope and sending it back to my brother unopened and putting a post-it note on it. "Sorry "R", but I'm just too busy basking in the warmth and glow of my fabulously rosy childhood to even think about reading this. But thanks for thinking of me. Love, and hugs, your "sis" with the silver spoon. So other than the blemish that is my family, (sigh) its been a great day. It actually started last night. I had found this flyer at a local library about this event which gives survivors of sexual abuse a chance to express themselves through art on T-shirts. Hey, that was right up my alley, so yesterday I had gone to Goodwill and found a T-shirt for 99 cents, and then last night during the Letterman show had stretched it out on the coffee table. I really wanted to come up with something clever that would hopefully translate into something I could do visually, without looking too geeky. Plus I knew I would be using felt pens, rather than pens usually used for fabric drawing (since I couldn't afford to go out and buy those). I do have a shitload of felt pens from various garage sales over the years, so I just had to think of something. My idea? It was a take off on an old PSA commercial from a couple of years ago. The old "This is your brain (two eggs)...This is your brain on drugs (eggs all burned up and nasty looking). Any questions?" Well, on my shirt I drew a little sickly heart with the word "Ouch" on it and wrote: "This is your heart" and put a Band Aid on it. And then I drew a big dramatic heart with smiling daisies all over the inside of it and wrote: "This is your heart ON LOVE" with bright colorful letters. And then on the bottom I wrote: "Any questions?" It turned out really adorable, and I was really proud of it. It was incredibly cheerful looking and really expressed how I was feeling or would like to feel. So this morning I had told my survivor group that I would help some more on the readying of the respite house they're working on. I showed it to everyone and they really liked it. They thought it was cute. Finally took it over to the Women's Center in the early afternoon. As I walked up I could see other T-shirts hanging up on the porch. The woman running the event was someone I had taken some art therapy classes from a couple of years earlier. She said hi. But as I got closer I was kind of aghast at the shirts I saw hanging there. They were all angry looking. I could see the word RAPIST slashed across one shirt is blood red letters. Another one had a picture of a doll and said, "Daddy, I'm not YOUR doll." Oy. Mine: Smiling daisies. Don't worry, be happy. La, la, la. Gulp. The woman said she really liked the shirt though. She tried to pull the Salvation Army price tag off the collar, but I told her that was part of its message. Poverty and Survivors are sometime synonymous. Ok, got it. Anyways, according to the flyer, the shirts will be displayed on April 24th at some local national nonprofit agency that deals with sexual abuse and than be permanently stored at the local rape crisis center in something called The Clothesline Project. So total coolness. I had fun doing it, and it was for a good cause. And how often do I get to be the ray of sunshine in any situation? Yay for me! Older Entries |
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty |
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