minnowheart

[minnowheart]

wishing all artists a very sincere "get weirder with it" this coming year

[minnowheart]

In response to Joy Harjo's Poem "Break My Heart "

[minnowheart]

You die and you meet God.

She looks at you with her Aspen eyes. Her thousand-edged cutting eyes.

She says HELLO. HELLO AGAIN.

She says THAT WAS QUITE A RIDE THIS TIME, HUH?

She says YOUR EYES ARE SO BEAUTIFUL. THEY ARE ALWAYS SO BEAUTIFUL.

She says WELL? DID YOU DO IT? DID YOU FIGURE IT OUT?

You don’t reply. You are trying to figure out why you are falling and falling and staying still. You are trying to remember how long you have been falling here. You are trying to remember where here even is.

You say who are you?

You say what happened, where am I?

You say my eyes are beautiful? But your eyes… they are so lovely too.

You say figure what out?

She looks again at you with her chimera mountain Aspen eyes.

She sighs.

She turns ThunderBird. Wings a trillion volts of lightning.

You are turned without from within, cells shattering with the pulse of storms.

You choke soundless.

ThunderBird says electric YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW YOU GOT HERE?

ThunderBird says galvanic YOUR DEATH WAS BLESSED, AS THEY ALL ARE.

ThunderBird says voltaic NOW YOU ARE HERE. AT THE END OF YOUR LIFE.

You spin and spin apart. There is only this static in your mouth. You think this is what terror truly tastes like. This thought is soothing to you somehow. You are completely still in this empty void. You are surrounded, thrashing in this cramped filled-to-the-brim space.

You scream but I was so young.

You scream how could I have known to enjoy it more?

You scream but I lived a full life.

You scream oh… I lived.

ThunderBird cradles you in their voltage feathers.

Your breathing leaves you. You wonder if you were breathing this whole time, in this space.

You wonder if you miss it. You cannot remember.

ThunderBird shifts Coyote, yellowed grin all flashing teeth and writhing tongue.

Coyote says laughing IT'S ALL JUST CHAOS ANYWAY.

Coyote says cackling IT'S ALL JUST LIGHT AND DARK AND THE IN BETWEEN.

Coyote says shrieking IT'S WHAT HAPPENS TO EVERYONE. WE LIVE. WE DIE. POOF. NO MORE.

You say yes, well, of course, but how am I -

HERE TALKING TO ME? WELL, ISN'T THAT SOMETHING THEN.

Coyote winks into stars, surrounding, spiraling into a thousand heads of The Divine.

You screech and groan and roar and crawl and writhe and slither and claw and gnash and lash a thousand tails.

Shamash says with the voice of the sun YOU'RE ALMOST DUE. ANY MORE QUESTIONS?

You struggle to remember anything besides this endless aching everywhere.

You gasp my life! What was the point of my life?

You say almost due? Due where?

You say when does this stop?

Bastet says with silken sleek drawl IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE TO ASK? IS IT ALL ABOUT YOU?

You don't remember your name.

Rudra says with obsidian teeth WHAT WAS THE POINT. WELL, I SUPPOSE YOU'LL HAVE TO FIGURE THAT OUT.

You scream a silent scream I don't understand anything!

Prometheus says with flaming song REGARDLESS, THIS IS YOUR STOP.

The Stars that are not quite Stars incandescently chorus SEE YOU SOON.

You blink one last time. Your vision Kaleidoscopes, bends into a thousand ways.

You become Mountain, Fertile Plain, Forest of Evergreen, Desert, The Sea.

You speak to yourself now. There is only yourself.

There has only ever been you in all this soft darkness, all this blinding light.

Here in the Beginning. Here at the end.

The wheat chants GO

The water cries GO

The ice and snow wail, melting. GO

The birds call THE POINT OF IT ALL IS TO CARE

The wilderness whispers CARE ABOUT ANYTHING OTHER THAN YOURSELF.

The Wolves howl I WILL ASK YOU NEXT TIME

The playful Dolphin and innocent Dodo and gentle Elephant and loyal Passenger Pigeon and Ivory-billed Woodpecker and the graceful, forgiving Thylacine moans IF YOU WERE ABLE TO DO IT. IF YOU WERE ABLE TO FIGURE IT OUT.

You understand. There are uncountable tears. This is all you are. Water salted from the source. You close your eyes.

You awake, in a body small and gasping for breath, screaming a wordless sound.

[minnowheart]

@mcromwell was right. Wiggly does really help with art and having fun. Anyway here’s a self portrait

[minnowheart]

something something heart grows fonder the farther you go but isn't it more like. like. you only realize how much they mean once the space they take up is bigger and quieter and there's something about laughter than you only hear in person that makes your heart break but in a good way and it hasn't been that long it really hasn't been that long but your nose against my neck breathing me in and your teeth someday as a show of promise and my hands winding in your hair your short long hair is all I can think about and soon you'll be home. home home home and I'll breath you in right back and we'll laugh and cry and wonder how it took so long and how it really wasn't that long at all

[minnowheart]

I'm a ghost, boi

[minnowheart]

You are not normal - You can never be that now.

Not with your Star Wings that no one feels but You.

It was never about this Story,

but somehow the Crown came anyway - Golden Antlered in the sky.

It was never about this Story.

The whispers you wouldn't yet understand. The right, the left. The blood on your hands...

Now only this Story Remains.

A silhouette of steady body.

Moonshadow...

Moonshadow...

Dusk

[minnowheart]

You are not normal - You can never be that now.

Not with your Star Wings that no one feels but You.

It was never about this Story,

but somehow the Crown came anyway - Golden Antlered in the sky.

It was never about this Story.

The whispers you wouldn't yet understand. The right, the left. The blood on your hands...

Now only this Story Remains.

A silhouette of steady body.

Moonshadow...

Moonshadow...

Dusk

[minnowheart]

Coming from a Comic I'm working on about about a dream from a very long time ago

[minnowheart]

◇ Tulikettu ◇ Oh, Flaming Fire Fox

[minnowheart]

[minnowheart]

also i WILL be posting all my cringe fail beginner art here specifically to force myself to have fun bc it’s supposed to be fun

[minnowheart]

Champion, Blessed Be The Too-Much

[minnowheart]

Champion

[minnowheart]

There exists a tale of the Mishipeshu…

[minnowheart]

I was thinking of how ironic it was for Louise to assist in my understanding of this poem more deeply.

Oh, the Webs we weave. Oh, the Webs we are woven into.

First but not the last comic I will make. This spurred something in me.

Thank you for reading.

[minnowheart]

My parents got married years ago. Divorced when I was 8 years old. I threw away their wedding pictures today. Last month I turned 27. Why I kept them is somewhat of a mystery, baffling to everyone else, including my mother.

Maybe I liked how young they both looked, how wide and careless the smiles. Maybe it was the straight people purity - the white dresses of bridesmaids and the mother and the bride, white backdrop for pretty pictures, white tablecloths over white tables, white dancefloors under shiny black shoes, white pearly teeth against joy-stretched lips, white pristine perfect flowers everwhere.

Maybe it was the idea of me and my brother being just that; Ideas in those moments, hopes not yet beings, an inevitablility not yet bodies. Whatever the reasons, I kept them. Framed pictures and albums filled with memories of a life before me. Maybe that's why. Time captured in moments in a world I did not walk in.

For years they were a treasure heavy in my chest, heavy in my hands. It felt wrong, placing these precious things in a trash bin filled with everything else that would dirty them. It would ache my heart to think of these smiling faces sitting sun-stained in a dump somewhere.

"They are just things, remenants of something long since finished." my mother would say. "Let them go, let them leave."

No, I would think, make them echo, make them sing. I threw them away today. Not enough space in the apartment for things with that kind of weight. I placed them delicate on the top of the bin, along with a dozen mother's day and valentine's day cards from when I was still a child in a child's body.

I was surprised by the lightness of my heart, my hands. I felt a stone in my throat shift, the disolving of something that allowed me to sing with more light. Echoes I thought. Yes. It's okay if that's all they will be.