$3,755
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63
backers
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Funding Unsuccessful
The project's funding goal was not reached on Mon, July 27 2015 2:00 AM UTC +00:00
$3,755
pledged of $10,000pledged of $10,000 goal
63
backers
0seconds to go
Funding Unsuccessful
The project's funding goal was not reached on Mon, July 27 2015 2:00 AM UTC +00:00

Mae

1 like
Mae, oil on canvas, 23x32in, May 2015
Mae, oil on canvas, 23x32in, May 2015

Hi friend, I’m Mae Fetu. I’m some kind of silly girl from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I forgot how old I was the other day. I turned 27 in a mental hospital a few months ago. Wow that got intimate fast. Darn.

Also, I am Gel. I like the concept of gel. What even is that stuff? It’s different from slime. Slime can come from anywhere, but gel has to be manufactured. Gel is given a purpose. Not like slime, that stuff is gross.

I authored a zine called Synthetic Puddles, which deals mostly with my experience with mental illness and accepting my identity as a non-binary transgender woman. Pretty gloomy stuff. You might be asking yourself, “hey Mae, what is a synthetic puddle?”. Good question, friend. It’s probably something that you accept as natural at a glance. It’s likely something that you might pass on the street and dismiss as another small part of the atmosphere around you. You didn’t think much about it, even if you did notice it. Who knows what formed the puddle? Was it rain? Did somebody spill something? Is it something gross? Is it gel? It’s probably gel.

Every day I take a bunch of pills. I’m made of pills. They all work together to keep my wits sharp, my blood hot, and my gaze fierce. If I weren’t looking slightly to my left in this painting, you wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed today. Kind of like how I can’t get out of bed sometimes. Although, when I can’t get out of bed it’s usually from crying.

Oh crap this is getting sad. I don’t want to make you sad, friend. I’m here for you. We should spend some time together. Do you ever just want to go back to the way it used to be? Picture this: My little hand blanketing your clenched and trembling fist. You look up at me, and I’m staring you deep in the face eyes. “It’s okay to feel this way,” I say to you. You nod. A moment passes into the meaningless void. There is a collective moment of rejoice, and our meaningless little feelings are dancing on our faces. “You can go now,” I say.

Welcome to the jungle.

Please back for a print, or a calendar, or the original painting. Keep sharing. Thank you.

Janet Bruesselbach likes this update.

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