Tag Archives: random

A peep out of me

 

Smashwords is having a special Authors Give Back sale. People can download my book for free. We haven’t got a lot else to do, right? If we’re very, very lucky, boredom will be our worst enemy. The less lucky have to face loneliness, deprivation, sickness, and grief.

Well, I can’t fix that. But I can fix Bored. For several hours anyway.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/599602

I have this insurmountable to-do list on my phone, which I mostly ignore, and periodically angst over. I’m working my way through it at an alarming pace. I wonder how long it’ll last me. My freezer is getting really organized. I’ve figured out how to fight the ants back from the sink. Why aren’t I writing?

I guess I’m still adjusting, still reeling. I haven’t had the confidence to speak about what I’m seeing. For a while there, I wasn’t sure if this was worth worrying about or what.  Then came mental adjustment to new facts. Then came house arrest. Then I had to make fish cakes. Then came denial. Then I just absolutely had to learn how to tune the gears on my bike. Now I think I’ve come to terms, more or less, with whatever the hell is happening.

Have I mentioned how lucky I am? Maybe grateful… blessed… are better ways to put it. My work was already partially remote, so they’re letting us work from home. I didn’t really have that much put away in the stock market… money’s all made up anyway, it comes and goes. I’ve got a cabinet full of grits, rice, and beans if it comes to that. I really have nothing to worry about except other people.

Other people. That’s the only thing worth worrying about, isn’t it? I’m a type B, not a worrier by nature. Not by anybody’s standards. Well, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere. I mean that quite literally.

Missouri’s only got forty-something cases yet. That is, cases which have been tested and reported. Who knows what’s been hacked up out there, invisible, unreported.

It’s strange, behaving like I’m sick when I don’t feel sick. Next time I go out, I’ll get to play bandit with a kerchief on my face. That’s right, a handkerchief. My friends give me shit, because handkerchiefs are my religion. YOU SHOULD HAVE BROUGHT A HANDKERCHIEF, I’ll say, and whip mine out to save the day in every situation.

But I digress. It’s a writer’s prerogative.

So I’ll post more often, because we all need something to read, and it’s nice to know that we’re all alive out there.

Speaking of which… everyone alive out there? My precious reader friends and blogger friends? DO YOU HAVE ENOUGH TOILET PAPER? 

Count off!

 

P.S. Bloggers might appreciate this. The diary of Samuel Pepys, written in the 1660’s in London during a bout of the Bubonic Plague. 

https://www.pepysdiary.com/diary/

I haven’t read a lot of it, but one part sticks in my mind: he was having a little house party, everyone was having a nice time, singing songs, then the party had end because two people got toothaches and wanted to go to bed.

Add modern dentistry and modern nutrition to my gratefulness list.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Drawception is eating me alive

 

I have been consumed by Drawception lately. I should be more ashamed than I am.

It’s a waste of time, but it’s not an absolute waste of time. The fast-paced practice is improving my digital drawing and coloring skills. It’s also teaching me other things:

  • Concise communication
  • Lowest common denominators (modern archetypes) in language and symbols
  • Good character design
  • So many memes…
  • Where my extra time is in the day is (being obsessed, I find a way)
  • How my art stands in relation to others’

 

https://drawception.com/game/tW7EM2rDtK/a-lamp-falling-down-an-infinite-staircase/

https://drawception.com/game/syb4Grk77X/goose-has-lightsaber-now/

 

Yes, it’s 100% ridiculous. That’s the draw.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Bits and Pieces 3

Little bits and pieces of poems which didn’t make the cut for one reason or another, but which I like too much not to post.

 


 

I need sleep.
I need a run.
I need food.
I need happiness
I need a bucket of water
To wet down this
Paper construction life.

 


 

Touch me green
Get your fucking hands off of me.
Touch me black
You stay three feet back.
Touch me red
I will wring your neck.
Touch me purple
Leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Touch me yellow
It’s almost right but not quite.
Touch me blue
You. You. You.

 


 

Whirling florating colors
A hickory tree
Something sustainable
A light wind
And in blows kudzu
Invasive, edible
Too much for us
We prefer beef
So we watch our roadsides die.

 


 

Kiss me kindly
Delicately
Like marzipan
Like frangipani
Like gelato
I want to taste
Your magic motion
I want to feel
The things you think
I want to smell
Your expressions.
What scent are you expressing now?
Yes.
Express it in my direction.
Please.

 


 

Cold cream
Ice cream
Wet milk
Butter.
Cheese
All the cheese
As many strains of cheese
As there are molds
As many molds
As there are humans to eat them.
Cheese.

 


 

We can’t play
On the old tire swing anymore.
Somebody’s fat ass broke it.
We can’t sing
The old songs anymore
They’re no longer allowed.
This is what it is to grow up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

« Older Entries