• i’m still here.

    i know, i know… i made this site back in february, and by april had essentially abandoned it. the truth is that i got some potentially devastating news in april and have spent all my time since then just trying to press onward, staying busy to keep myself from worrying too much. things have been good, and they’ve been bad. but now, i expect that i’ll have my answer within the next week, or definitely within the next two. at the moment, i’m in a lonely, restless limbo – putting on a brave face and trying to prepare for the worst. i’ll try to let you know when i find out. maybe then i’ll stop being too paralyzed to create.

  • untitled

    “nothing”
    would be welcome,
    if it were truly so.
    but nothing is always
    something,
    & sometimes,
    it’s actually everything.

  • labor.

    the laundry that takes
    twice as long
    because everything is inside out

    the dishes that are
    crusty with food
    because nothing has been rinsed

    the messes that appear,
    inexplicably,
    on every surface, every day

    the endless clutter
    of things that have a home
    but can never find their way

    the careful shopping
    and poring over options
    to save the most on needs

    breakfast, lunch, and dinner;
    morning and bedtime routines

    bus stop twice a day,
    supervising outdoor play

    checking temps and giving meds,
    cleaning vomit from floors and beds

    fixing what needs fixed,
    solving problems that exist
    and preventing countless others
    through hyper-vigilance

    anticipating the needs of six
    and managing a team of four
    who seem intent to operate
    in near-constant discord

    one unofficially designated
    executive functioner,
    head of thinking and doing and being,
    first of her name
    and first one to blame

    but then you say i don’t have a job,
    so tell me – who is doing it all?

  • watercolor studies at the park

    brought my sakura koi water colors pocket field sketch box with me to the playground. my daughter got to spend two hours having a blast with the other kids (it was nice out, so there were plenty) while i practiced my painting. the best way to grow as an artist is just to make a ton of art. as a recovering perfectionist, i still have to remind myself that it’s okay to mess up, make ugly things, experiment, go with the flow, and just practice. doing those things is what has led to the most improvement for me. every year, my drawing skills increase through my participation in inktober (six years and counting). i’m going to keep practicing various mediums, and keep posting the results – not just the good ones.

  • brick & mortar

    i haven’t posted in a few days, because i’ve been hard at work setting up my space in a local antique mall. i went on tuesday to inquire about their waitlist for booths, and ended up leaving having rented a shelf just off the front room! now that i’m a vendor, i’ll have a higher preference on the waitlist for when a booth opens up. i will continue to sell some items on ebay (especially items that are more valuable to a niche market), but hopefully i’ll find some success with my little shelf so that i can justify a larger booth space when it becomes available. for now, i focused on the large amount of small vintage toys that just aren’t worth all the work of listing individually online. my shelf is on the bottom, so little kids in particular will find it easy to browse my wares 🙂

  • my cup is small.

    i used to think
    it was big enough
    for me,
    that i could fit
    just what i have,
    which is really all i need.

    frequently, i find
    my cup half-full
    when i wake up,
    but it’s like tar
    and i can’t pour it out
    quite fast enough.

    then they came
    to pour and pour
    their whole mess into me
    until it all flows over –
    just more for me to clean.

    and when the crisis settles,
    it’s filled beyond the brim,
    but somehow they won’t stop trying
    to squeeze a few drops in.

    some days,
    it’s clean and full,
    so i might offer you a sip,
    but then you drain it all,
    leaving not a drop to drip
    upon my thirsty tongue
    or weary soul
    until i slowly slip
    through the giant hole
    in my tiny cup
    that you will never
    fill back up.

  • a bookshelf for your bookshelf

    i made my husband this miniature for christmas in 2023. he recently requested that i secure the items to the shelves, because now that we live in a house on a crawlspace, they were constantly falling off from general movement. i used museum wax, because i want the option to rearrange and/or add new pieces later. then, of course, i took some pictures for posterity. and for this website.

  • icon

    so i’ve been hard at work the past couple of days trying to make an icon for my site, but i lost the plot somewhere along the way, and it really doesn’t translate into a tiny circle, unfortunately. it’ll do for now, because it’s better than the standard wordpress icon, but i’m going to need to try again. tbh i can’t even post a good picture of the thing, but i’ll leave it here anyway, because that’s what i’ve been working on.

    pigma microns and grabie acrylic markers on grumbacher mixed media paper

  • the bookshelf by my bed

    [featuring: my lifelong autistic urge to put everything in rainbow order]
    i thought perhaps a look at the books i keep close might give some insight into who i am (or, at least, who i aspire to be)

emily mccormick,
artist.

i used to identify in more specific ways – writer, photographer, crafter. i’ve come to understand that they’re all branches of the same tree – that no matter the medium, what i’m creating is art.