"Yeah, but…" subtitled: ‘Hope for the best and mop up the rest…"

It’s a fox…among other things.

It’s a bird’s eye…a branching pattern…a trilogy…a lightning bolt…some old figure from some language I have never studied.

It’s more…almost everything depending on how you look at it.

Eternal flames and old crowns…

God might be the supreme surrealist, when a chest can be a face and a face can be the brackets of wings that look like a left hand and old hieroglyphs can look like wind-up tails.

“I don’t know how you are still standing.”

This is what The Doctor said to me. This may have been to insinuate that he thought it impossible that the events of the past month, as actual and experienced, could be endured by someone of my supposed state.

The great thing is that I have never been as bad off as ya’ll liked to think…so, whatever.

I have not, however, been standing for the past 20 hours or so. I have been sleeping. Shivering and sweating and sleeping. Not really sick, but when I tried to get up to shake it off I was driven back under the blankets. Awful dreams about spiral staircases at rock face monuments with sheer drops and small caves.

Where the hell did I park? I nearly died driving there, in my dream.

A two-tone green picnic tent blowing into the road from the gas station on the left, swerve and a silver twin-cab truck near sends me into the open air beside the road, trying to avoid me or block me…I couldn’t tell. All I knew is that I got around it and parked at the natural monument, an obvious face (‘Face of War’) (I don’t remember what the woman told me it was called. )

As the sun rose the place got busy, children and blankets and mothers calling their bigger kids back from the flaked red metal staircases that they played on, though the springs that held the gates were creaking and quick to slam shut.

I kept walking around, not sure where I was going. The spiraled stairs were confusing and when I meant to go up, I ended up down. Some of the stairs became so tangled that the intent in their design seemed to be to have people fall into the spaces between…

“God, where is my car? I have to get back to town.” This is what I thought in the dream. Just an urgent sense, as urgent as what had driven me to the monument in the first place.

…and back in town, a grocery store parking lot, a long road, a kiosk where color copies cost 3 bucks apiece, a meeting, a gathering I was not to attend, a grandmother with my children clinging to her cart, reaching up to pull yellow plastic shovels off of a top shelf…a lot of sad miscellany, really.

I think I will write to my new penpal today and try to write a less long and rambling letter. I am trying to pare down my words.

Here are some pictures from the past few days. I haven’t been drawing quite as much. I had a job interview and am hopeful for employment. I recorded some music.

The street here is quiet, just a few cars driving by every so often. It’s nice. I can still hear the I-240, the distant cry of trucks’ horns. And trains. I have always lived within earshot of trains. Always.

In the end, the librarian wasn’t sexy at all, was she?

I am, still, unable to hold a grudge. Just get over it people. I have figured out that everything you judge to be unwell about me is…well, it’s my heart…and my brain and the vulnerabilities you take advantage of to try to make me more like your idea of me…I am tired of this. Just get over it. There was never any game with me. It’s over…your game…it’s over.


In honor of drilling for oil and the Face of War, here are some pictures from the past few months.

My son has always appreciated the angler fish…others may prefer a Byzantine angel.

It looks like a reef…among other things.

This looks like a body, written all over and put together with a slope in it’s spine…among other things…a harp…or something…still, I don’t know what the repeating forms mean…I do know that there are A LOT of repeating forms…one of them in leaves cut-out/fallen in the video I posted last week…the split-up triangle with the shaft of space rising up from it’s base…an upside heart, another flame, old and geometric. Yeah, I know, impossible – right? Wrong.

It’s the little surprised face in the right hand corner that is my favorite here and all the lines either punched through or spelled out…but, there is more – there always is…

These were from mid-July…

The contouring made the clouds seem smooth like ice…and, to me, it looked like…a sky from somewhere else.

This looks like a womb…a lamp…and, always, the eyes…

Is there really anything to say?

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