Push Pin Art (Photos)

I opened up my bulletin board today.  Sigh!  I decided not to go down with a "pow" tonight, from a headache and to fight, fight, fight! the "knock out" tactic.  So I took a drink to help with pain and lots (lots) of OTCs because I am really in pain, and took out my board and christened it.

I used to make much better designs as a kid, but this is the kind of thing I did then...I remember my Mom started to get really bothered because I think my designs were looking too "Arabic" somehow.

I'll put several photos I took just now, and you can pick out the ones you like, if anyone likes any of them, and then I'll delete some of them.  I don't love this design, I just put it up and you can see it's not perfectly spaced by any means.   Here are some of me and this board and some marbles I picked up.  If this says anything, in any language, I would have no idea and it would be unintentional. But I do remember I was making a lot of designs that looked Middle Eastern for awhile and that's when my board disappeared.

I'm in love with someone.  I just don't know who it is yet.  It's not myself.  Really.

 

Oh yeah.  I do love God.  A LOT.

  I LOVE YOU GOD

 

 

I don't know.  I think it's "body art"...sort of an incorporation of oneself with surroundings for a visual effect, but of course, my equipment is not ideal.  I love photography and dear God, I love you people.

You know whose portraits intrigue me?  Mary's.  The British Catholic Mary of something or other with her provocative portraits...so confusing but artistic too.  Something about them and her religion combined interested me.  I looked her up, to know my "knows".  Mary II.

 

Hmmm.  Psychic?  She was Co-Heir with William and cried about it.  Dear me, not my cuuuzin.  Anyway, I guess that's where William & Mary come from, but I think, what I thought, just from wiki photos (because I haven't explored other things or looked at nobility in depth at all), was her portraits are so revealing and heathen for a Catholic!  Sort of pinching herself, and low neck-lines next to naked cherubs..sort of a juxposition between what is innocent and naked and verging naked.  Which?  Some of these royal portraits are seriously psychic in symbolism.  I mean, crazy.   Crazy seriously psychic...like how many decades ahead could they see into the future??!

 Where is my bow and arrow.

 

I love you.

 

 

 

Wherefore art thou

 

 

 

Notice the hand aligned with the nice buttons mmm?  Where is my artist love?

 

So anyway, these are quick photos I took all at once without any pre-thought or planning. Very spontaneous.  It was fun!  Then I ended up throwing in a few other photos that came up.  But really, when do I get to have my own son and raise him and have a normal life?  I'm an artist, so if "they" don't understand me, that's not my fault.  They need to take responsibility for their own cracks in communication.

I'm sure I have a soul mate. 
Even more, I'm sure I have the right to raise my son.

 

(Mary Queen of Scots death mask at Falkland Palace and Me, Cameo Loree.  I demand the return of my son Oliver)

Is this what the U.S. has become?  A torture chamber for 'select' U.S. citizens, and captivity for them and kidnapping of their children?  YES.  THIS is what the U.S. IS.  God Damn the United States and keep them under damnation until my son is returned to me. 

GOD DAMN The United States of America!!!

HOORAH!

(very good d&jying by the way, nice for a change...or maybe I just have my guard down with a drink, but I think, very nice...I am seriously tortured in this country, with my son...please help a sad artist and her son, and thank you so much for those of you I know, my dear god, have seriously done over and beyond..i always pray, believe me, I pray to God for you and your families.  God knows.  Only god knows how I do thank him and pray for good for those who try to help us).  p.s.   I am not kidding.

pecan nuts? is that like, be gone "nuts".  my dear God, I believe in God.  I am NOT kidding or joking.  I don't want to be perfect though I have tried, and it's never been allowed;...but thank you and bless you those who have somehow blessed me or my son. I don't know why you did it.  You sometimes had little reason to.  But GOD BLESS YOU.  I don't care what your politics are or your religion, if for any reason you chose to somehow try to help, someone was giving you a little truth and I am seriously, seriously, I don't even understand how...I can't say 'indebted' because I don't want to be captive, but if I were ever in a position to help so many others, I very seriously would be doing my best. 

My best.

Do you people even know what I wanted to do?  I wasn't self-absorbed.  I wanted to use my mind and use it to my highest ability to do my best for others.  I think, with my "training" I was, and I am, sometimes cold on surface or misunderstood, but I am telling you, in my core, I care.  If some freaking "psychic" or "prophet" tells YOU otherwise, they are not worth beans.  I don't care if they love me or hate me--the duty of a real "psychic" (which I was, once a long time ago and am not since maybe age 8) is to say what the truth is, and if you are Chinese, Japanese, Swiss, German, Russian, Israeli, PLO (encompassing all of these beautiful brilliant psychics from so many Middle Eastern countries), Latin American with your Passione, or French with your cool suave confidance! or British, your stiff mustached womanly lip, it's all the British lesbians who love me, like Anne, and who try to kill me too....just admit the truth....I have not hated mankind.  Why don't you fucking lesbian ho's just say something positive about me for once?  All the men come out of the closet. How about YOU.  Come out of your FUCKING CLOSET.  I'm not saying this because I'm lesbian, because honestly, I'm not.  Sure, I never had a lot of barriers keeping me from being bisexual or anything and I guess I could kiss a woman, but no, I'm not lesbian.  I'm just saying, why don't you be honest.  I did kiss a woman.  I will admit that.  Unless I was a kid, kissing some woman (which is possible) I kissed "Amanda" when I was drunk. That was hilarious.  She was a coworker at the bar I worked at, in D.C. and she encompassed, so I laughed and kissed her! Did I want to have sex with her?  Not at all, and no, I do not have ANY desire to do THAT.  UGGGHHHHHHh,  I am straight.

I did it as a joke and it was unexpected. Honestly, it's what the CIA tried to "train me for" but I am actually not as "trainable" as they liked, not like Lesbo-Kate, so they wanted to kill me.  Can I say I've been "spanked" by women at a bar?  without my encouragement, yes.  I was once. I was also propositioned once when I ran a 1/2 marathon in Vancouver, B.C.  And did I kill "Amanda" in D.C.?  Yes.  She kissed me when I was totally soused and it didn't seem like a big deal.  Soused, would I have wanted to do anything else with her?  NO.  Definitely not.   Not even if I was blasted, I would not...I am just not lesbian.   I mean, kissing someone doesn't seem such a big deal if incapacitated (beyond reason) but even beyond reason, I am not lesbian, and nothing against those who are, but it's not where I stand.  My soul mate is not a woman. I might have mentors and conspirators who, thank God, eagerly think as I do and think, "What?! She's like ME?!" but I'm not a lesbian or bix.  It would leave options open to be bix, but I'm not.  However, I'm also not a "scrounger" for male affection.  Hold me UP you FEMINISTS!  I am against abortion...so on that front, I don't agree with both liberals AND many, many republican women (I've discovered), however...I am adamantly feminist.  Look at my life.  YOU find a challenger "Monster".  There isn't one.  I am "Ze Feministe".  You want a real, serious, independent thinker?  Me.

It is me.  Okay, fine franzi.  It is "I".

I am the mata hari who can celebrate freedom and I am also a serious feminist and independent thinker who has never, ever, thought about the dollars with men.  How many fucking men could I have taken for EVERYTHING.  ?  I could have taken several of them for all they were worth.  Serious money.  Rich, rich, Richie=Rich.  Oh yes, I saw YOU YOU and YOU.  But did I go after their money, ever?  (sigh) Never.  It doesn't drive me.  Dear God if I were not a stupid girl, wouldn't I think about the bigger picture?  Just a little money?  Come on...if oppressed with such talent, brains, and ability, wouldn't you think about the advantage of being with a man with money???

Hmm.

I burned money honey.

I burned it.  In a fireplace with a fucking Grand Russian.

We burned money.

No, "money" sold at the cost of my independence or dignity, never appealed to me.  I appraised my own dignity at a higher value than that.  So I guess I'm sharing this information partly because I've had some drinks and I don't have my headache anymore and partly because I want to collaborate (secretly and anonymously) with other young and old women who strive to do more for themselves and who are really trying to make the best of their assets independently before, or in addition to, joining these things with a partner.

I have always loved women. What I mean by this, is even in jr high I realized, "I am not jealous!  I love these other girls and women!  I want them to succeed!  I want them to laugh at me and my stupid fancy underwear in the locker room!  I want them to see how I believe in their talents!  I want them to think I'm funny and not worry I will take the boy or man they love!  I want them to know I am just a crackpot, someone to laugh at, I am making fun of myself, can you laugh at me?  because I am degrading myself  and being a jokester to make you laugh...YOU "mary anne Blazer" who stole the only boy I cared about; YOU Marcie.  You Stephanie. Stephanie,..I had no idea you...I have no idea...you and your family are plotting to KILL me but Stephanie, I support YOUR dreams and aspirations.  Stephanie.  You want to be a chef?  How can I support you, in every single part of my breath and blood, to encourage you to succeed.  Stephanie, I am looking at recipes with you, to encourage you.  I am talking with you to say, "Do it.  YOU can do it.  Go for it.  Stephanie, you have the talent and desire, I think you would be a GREAT chef.  Let's look at Gourmet and Bon Appetit together.  Stephanie, I think being a chef is  a noble aspiration. It's a great talent to have!  and think of how well you will please your own family with what you create too!  I LIKE the idea!"  How many ways did I try to inspire and encourage other women, who were trying to KILL ME to go for their dreams?

I liked cooking a little too.  I set it all aside.  Any of my ideas, I set aside in order to encourage Stephanie Maiers to "go for" her dream.  Meanwhile, she and her family were plotting my death by brake failure.

I don't have my FUCKING SON STEPHANIE. YOU FUCKER.  YOU FUCKING BITCH.


This bitch Stephanie Michelle Maiers.  What do you want to fucking know about her and her family?  I will tell you the SHiT.  And so will her own fucking mother Barbara Maiers.  You fucking Indian--you either be loyal to the other "Indians" or to this half-breed "Stephanie".   Barbara thought there was shame in having so much Native American blood, even though she was knock-out gorgeous.  Well, her daughter who befriended me as a best friend, was part of the "kill Cameo" brigade and all I ever did for "Stephanie Fucking Stephanie" (who has no actual real name to claim to  because she is actually a serious bitch) was encourage her.

I gave my heart out for Stephanie Fucking Maiers.  I resignated and shadowed my own culinary interests, even, to promote and further her goals, just as I did for my mother with her horse interests.  Had I not supported bitches who called me "nuts" and conspired to kill me, I would have been both a fucking chef and a horsewoman on my own.  YOU FUCKING BITCHES.

I had an extreme interest interest in riding and horses that I resignated to my mother when she started buying all of her horse subscriptions.  I liked cooking and baking and had some creative ideas which I sublimineated to Stephanie Maiers.  No fucking wonder Stephanie and my mother had something to whisper about over me. Both of them were planning my death.  yes.  seriously.  So was my Dad, because he got sucked into it, but did I support women?

Yes.  I supported other women to my own detriment.

I have no idea what woman will collaborate and confirm what I say but there are witnesses from Jr. High.  What kind of a girl was I?  You fucking TELL THEM.  Which one of you will be the one to contact the FBI AND other OIG persons, so the message is NOT lost,...what was happening with me and what you witnessed and what kind of person you saw me to be?  Why don't you fucking get ahold of them, instead of leaving me to the mercy of my enemies.

My Mom wanted to kill me when I got back from my work in Russia.  After a short time, I wanted to go back. I kept saying over and over, "I want to go back!!!" so she got the idea to kill me with Valerie Plame and Joe Wilson and have me enrolled in "Annie" plays so I sounded like I was confusing theater with reality.  They fucking electrocuted the brains out of me.  I wanted to go back and work in Russia where I had been working with this man who respected my talent.  Instead I was electrocuted, tortured, in the U.S., "cummed" on with male ejactulate courtesy of the U.S. Pentagon, and under assassination attempts and curses, with my own Mom and Dad working against me.  I had no real friends, because since my parents controlled who I could visit, I only visited kids whose parents were also involved in plans to kill me.  Fallons and Maiers.

I had no friends outside of those that were fed to me by the fucking United States God-forsaken-government.  They had decided they were killing me, so the only people they allowed me to be around were UK fuckers they worked with, like Gary Fucking Goldsmith-Middleton, and a few U.S. government kids.  That was it.  I had no choice.  I had NO OPTIONS.

I really strived to be friends with women, and not against them. In part, maybe because I thought older women whose pedophile husbands desired me more than they, if I could prove to young women like me I was not stealing their boyfriend, they would understand me. I was being terrorized.  I needed friends and I tried to be a friend.