TMi

Summertime in a climate privileged location doesn't mean krayt spit when your house is a godless two-in-one solar convection oven / shack. It’s been consistently about 80(f) and over during the day inside. I try to pretend I am in Miami again. That doesn't help much. Miami is even more godless than this place. And have I been showing signs of the heat stress? Oh, you bet! All the things loose their meaning when the body must focus extensively on maintaining homeostasis. Even grief turns into a distant ooze.  I was going to write about the sudden death of beloved Sir Not-Calling-Himself-Nigel, Sam Neill– the New Zealand actor. He was such a good egg, and a wealth of inspiration. He didn't know me, I didn't know him, but I am grateful for the work he left behind. His Merlin is the bestest Merlin, his several psychotic characters live in my happy place along with Hannibal Lecter because he made them just as memorable. He was always a cozy presence to me; even...

"Great men are not born great, they grow great." - Don Vito Corleon This is some crazy auspicious month this year with so many overlapping holiday observances– and an eclipse– With a sprinkling of social unrest in Mexico. I'm writing from Mexico. When they kind of do hits on cartel bosses it does kind of does ripple out to people who aren't directly involved.  (Fun fact! I used to bank with Wachovia. Look them up. They were accused of money laundering for Mexican drug cartels. So... I have been involved.) Taking it back down from a global scale, the month is dedicated self-love. And nothing says sexy good times more than dental work! We must keep a Cronenberg / Clive Barker perspective on sensuality, no? Ok, if that is too much for you, then just think of it as self-care and maintenance. I continue my healing journey with a discomfiting jaunt to the dentists chair to have cavities addressed, crowns replaced, and best / worst of all three posts inserted int...

  W elpy-welp. I’ve officially arrived at the ass end of the snake year. The boulevard outside my door was soaked in pooling sewer filth from the 27th of December to about January 20th. The snake has incontinence in it’s old age. Or it is terrified of the coming hooves of the next year. I remember once being at a picnic with my family on some bright New England day. I don't know who spotted it, but we– us kids got excited about finding a snake nearby. I believe I was the quickest one and was able to catch the garter snake with my hands. I did not keep hold of it for very long. It was terrified of being snatched up out of the grass by a child and it wet me in defense. And it 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓀 . I remember the talk turn immediately to best practices for nullifying strong animal odors, skunk smells especially. Tomato juice seemed to be top of the list. We did not have that available– and perhaps orange juice was used instead? I have trouble remembering if it was me who actually caught a wild...

artist: Peter Halley At the top of this month I went to Art Basel Miami. Not the whole Miami art week extra satellite show whateverness, but the Art Basel Miami fair itself. There were over 280 booths full of eye candy to match that vase you have or that vice you have. Oh, OK, it wasn't all vacuous. I remember seeing a large circular wall hanging that caught my attention because it was made out of hammered bullet casings arranged to look like scales on a shield– the offensive killing thing made into a beautiful defensive thing. I liked that. I needed to carry that beautiful defense with me to block out the dog and donkey shows in the “new media” section though. I am sure you can guess the dog reference. It was all over the new outlets stealing undeserved attention. Unfortunately, there was another exhibit that was even more... 'adding to the problem.'  Just imagine being too poor to live in your own country, and this artless cryptobrosephus billionaire is standing next to...

Photo by Tara Winstead Another month. Another block of time in which stress tries to distresses me into a smaller state of being. Given the [colorful negative descriptor insert] situations here, there, and everywhere, it's been one more rough month for my mental health. My original post was going to delve into the hows and whys it's of this mental health roughness– hit you with the TMI of PMDD and other ugliness of my long recovery– I wrote out a whole post then I scrapped it; wrote another post, and scrapped that; deleted the bulk of this post, rewrote it twenty times because: "I don't write s'good, 'n' less good after what-all I've been through. I ain't good. I ain't– I don't got the it. I just don't. My thinkin' don't got no more ken. Must be... It's them inexcapable facts o'bein' stricken-like. Plus goin' unesteemed by them uppities. It's a why I can't get no renumerate. I'm broke flat. Just no goo...

In southern California / Baja California it has been very humid and rainy this month which unusual, in my experience.  I suppose it's part of the weather shift the call La Niña... Aw, look at me talking about the weather! How cute.  I'm avoiding US theee sociopolitical discussions by talking about the weather.   Or am I? Is this code? Sure it's code!  All language is code, silly-goose-head! The code word I thought about "virtue-signaling" for in this post was some made-up thing called... oh what is it now... Empathy? Yes, empathy. I got that right.  But then I self-censored.  It's been a wild month. I'm having a lot of thoughts that aren't productive (I want to be dead) and strong feelings that make my arguments appear less than thought out (except they really are).  I mean, people, look, it's not a common occurrence for me to have work I made get targeted by the White House to be censored. I'm not used to h...

Spending a couple of weeks in historic Lexington VA was supposed to be like an art residency. I went with the idea that   I would help paint a mural in a university gallery, and perhaps focus on making some art of my own. None of this happened.   In a tiny town where there is nothing much to do, my person chose to prioritize healing. My body had been quietly collapsing into itself the whole during my sickness so while I had this time, I wrestled with my joints and bones; fought the muscles, tendons, and that blasted thing called fascia. My back hurt often, but I know I am even stronger for the effort. I do stand up straighter. (My kyphosis laughs as I type that.) I could not focus enough to really create anything. My mind was also busy doing its own messy, inexplicable healing just for being in the rural east again- almost like being home. Some crying happened.   I saw a lot of deer and met some lovely human people. I reunited with my brother Mike....

This is an AI generated image of a green snake in a willow tree that I mangled into this horrible composition.  My health and my mental condition continue to be on the up- markedly so.  We are in the month of April in the year 2025 (I had to check to make sure) and I- I think I am finally a person- I might have finally achieved personhood again- I think. For real this time. This has to do with having improved energy levels and physical ability- not something sociopolitical, like my legal status has been changed in some way... I mean, yeah, I still am second class- low class, but I'm an actual person. I barely qualify according to the American standards of personhood these days, but so far so good on that front...🙄😬🫤 With the combination of persistence, time, and a few supplements (was it the astaxanthin that did it?), my body figured out how to person much better than it has been personing in years. That is good news.  In other good news, my Human has i...

Every word- every elaborate concept in the English language- can be modified by and reduced to 'FUCK.' I like that very much about English. However-  What kind of blog post would this be if  I just- want you all to fuck right off into the fucking outer darkness of fucking fuck you fucking useless roostersuckers - for example? I wish I could just skip over this writing business and transmit my anxiety-depression-rage-frustration and occasional awe and elation straight into the souls of others. Because I think I am  a shit writer- my product is shit- and I am, worst of all, a shit salesman. All this shit is only worth burying because it is too embarrassing. I am a damned, embarrassing animal, chock-full of self-loathing. I should not exist. There is some good news.  During March I've made more progress in my health journey!  It is slow going building my strength back up, and even slower going with flexibility, but I have noticed subtle impr...

I have started going to a gym in that has an indoor swimming pool. This is an interesting development in my life as- heh-  I don't swim.  At all. I was never much exposed to water culture as a youth. The few times I was in water, I was not instructed on the basics of swimming. Perhaps it was as if I was supposed to just figure out how to operate my body in the water- by osmosis, or something. It certainly didn't seem to matter to anyone else if I acquired the skill or not.  So, I never got accustomed to being in water.  After my illness, just being in water is a lot for me now: I cramp at the drop of a hat, I deal with unusual muscle weakness / twitching, my back pain can be spectacular fun to work around, and I am easily overwhelmed by the sensory input of... everything.  When there is a lot of people in the pool the overwhelm happens even faster. It is more akin to being at a nightclub than one would first imagine. If I had to put my head in t...

  I am not sure what to write about this month anymore. I considered writing about making art no one wants, or dermatillomania- or more about trying to openly obsess over fictional characters- or quite real humans.... Then I find out my father has taken ill and had to go to the hospital to get sorted out. I'm confused by the whole matter more than scared or worried. I don't have enough information to be worried. And I don't want to get angry for not having enough information either. When other people have enough information and the wherewithal to tell me, they will do so. If they don't, then I can get angry, perhaps. Because it's not like there is anything I can do to help. I'm on the other side of the continent. Unless my dad wants to do some medical tourism, I don't know how I could be of service.  I don't know what the best thing for me to do is. At all.  Ever. I'm not ending this year on a down note. Not really. It's just a very blue note. Th...

  I AM TOTALLY USELESS THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO AT ALL Wait- no- I can do: Dysphoria Depression Anxiety Neuromuscular issues  Invisibility i was more.. but now i don't know.. i don't know..

Summer is stuffy, humid, rotting wood, spores, insects... Daydreaming intensifies The need to escape persists I move inside spaces without purpose Playing make-pretends with the walls looking on While my guts ache and my spine crumbles Neuromuscular issues never quite gone Frittering in uncertainty I wish I could sing

exhausted, wired, dancing in a hotel room alone This is a long post. And certainly chock full of mistakes. Deal with it.  💙     I did a "wild" thing this month. I crossed the busiest international border in the world and took two flights during a global software hiccough to go to the Voices Against Cancer 605 Pop-Culture Con in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.  Some of the cast of the Ahsoka live-action Star Wars series were slated to appear there. George Takei would be there... It's an event to raise funds for kids with cancer...    Of all the people attending this event, however, the draw for me was Lars Mikkelsen- actor, Timothy Zahn- author, and Marc Thompson- voice animator. These three people have made and brought to life a particular Star Wars character that I have been in love with since I was roughly eleven years old. You may have heard of someone called Thrawn, perhaps? Eh, perhaps not. He's still lesser known than my other hard crush- Darth Vad...

September became October. October slipped away from me completely. I was aware of it going. The days refused to match up with the numbers assigned to them. The clocks changed. My focus was on the next moment. And the next moment. Maybe the next day I'll feel better. Maybe the next day I'll get to be a person.  I should share more. That is what a blog is for.  TMI! Over-sharing! But what is the use of trying to explain?  If you aren't in and out of neuropathic hellholes, if you have never been in one, then you will not relate. You haven't the capability. I don't expect you would even try to imagine it. I can say this- Not all my days are bad days, but all of my days are not fully functional ones. While I go on wrestling with vastly decreased sense of self-worth, here is a clip to watch. It is part of some video art about my DFSP cancer I have been working on-  Ask me questions about the clip.  Check in with me. Help me keep on going.     

san miguel adventure fun time part five of six- siesta The major   take-aways: Pace yourself   Stay hydrated   TV is educational Around the 20th latitude, below the tropic of cancer, the summer sun is brutal. Even if there are clouds in the sky. (Don't you be fooled by those clouds!) When you get to the hottest part of the day, you just need to retreat somewhere cool. I did anyway.  As I am still trying to understand what being in good health means for me these days, I did not want to push my limits too far. I always kept a water bottle on me and reminded myself it was OK to say no to doing more. It's OK to do less . It is possible to while away bright hours in one of the many coffee shops in the historic center. Some are even located on rooftop terraces! Terraces are a ‘thing’ in San Miguel. The views are quite lovely. But I wouldn’t be up on the rooftops for very long in the middle of the day. Indoors, under the protection of stone is so much better. I hate to say ...