I will celebrate you my sweet boy until I draw my final breath. —

No one knows the roads we traveled. Together. The sites we sights we saw. The light that guided us. The edges we stood on. The cliffs we peeked over. Together ❤. By wheels, paws, water or by foot. My best friend. My snow Bunny. My love. My Fur kid. My Brodie Lee. Your journey on Earth has ended. Going gently and peacefully into your goodnight. In the arms that loved you so. Words couldn't dare to describe the emotions. The depths of my heart touched by you. Although we didn't speak the same language.  We loved in the same language. I talk and you listen. You bark, I throw. A playful banter we both understood. Like you knew! I think you had me trained, not the other way around 😉. You'd find ways to let me know you cared. That you were there. Your hugs were almost human. Our love and bond is furever eternal. We 'got' each other. We were each other's missing link. Now I'm forced to go on. Without my partner in crime. Suddenly I'm a solo act. It scares the shit out of me. I had to put your life-your needs -before my own. You gave me so much more than the average dog mom could expect or dream of. My loudness has quieted. There's a soft echo. In the presence you left behind. Urging me to continue forward. To keep on keeping on. I've never known a love like our love. I doubt I ever will again. I'm thankful to God above. for putting us together. To help each other. To provide peace- comfort-joy-laughter. Such a devastating loss and deep sorrow. Brodie, you were such a good boy!! How can I do this without you buddy? I'm scared. Give Roonie, Fayfee, Isaiah and Nodee a kiss from me. My sweet boy, until we meet again. -mama

Brodie Lee 09/14/2008 - 07/13/2021

Theory • of • RelativiT E A

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please, sit for a bit of caw-FEe Tawk

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Once upon a time there lived a little chunky toe head......

It's either black or white. There's no gray matter.

While writing on our dining room table with a pen, pushing deep into the surface of the wood, my Mom looked at me. Looking up at her, she was shaking her head side to side, the way you do when you are in disbelief yet are totally believing in what you're seeing, that tsk tsk moment you know? We caught eachothers gaze. I smirked and she said " Misti Sue. I swear you were born with a pen or something to write with in your hand. Even as early as three years old you would color, then eventually write or draw on everything". I just looked back down at the table continuing with my efforts. You see, even though I was sixteen when we had this conversation, our house parties in Streamwood, Illinois were legendary & literally everyone 'signed' or drew on that table.

When I paint each is an expression of my feelings without having to utter a word. My process is special because each color is selected intuitively eventually taking on their own personality. It sounds lighthearted but it's actually a very sacred time. When the paint gets poured on the canvas it's telling a story. Each pour a unique, one of a kind, unpredictable path.

Some of my work is for sale on Etsy. [copy n paste this into your browser]
https://www.etsy.com/shop/KenSueCreative

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This ENDS with me. STANDING in MY messy truth-Exposed, Barren & Beautiful

Flush out the pain of the past. What is in the dark will always come into the light.

Here is where I'm going to get real. Leave some of you with your chins on the ground or tears streaming down your own cheeks. I want you to experience my truth. To feel what I feel Through my eyes the ink flows. Through my heart the gift of prose -Misti


Naked and Afraid

It's not easy. Like I said, everything which was dark comes into the light. I just never expected to be molested at night, sometimes the afternoon too. At the age of four, during my bath, I was hurting and red and raw. I told Momma Mavis that my pee-pee hurt. I recall this as if it were yesterday. What I don't remember is WHO it was. Details I do remember I'm saving for my book. I know it was a male family member from ages 4-5 or 6. It was also a male family member in my teens.

He robbed me of any normalcy. He groomed me and I became his victim. ANOTHER FUCKING STATISTIC of incest. Another secret to keep. To push down into the deepest, darkest part of me. I just wanted to be loved. 💔 Instead I spent my whole life trying to die. The dark place had become my home, the familiar, all I knew. I've also spent a good part of my years chasing after the light.

"Run to the light Carol Anne!"
- Poltergeist


First Gel Pen Drawing

my new reality

blue

since you've been gone



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