Month: May 2019

Listening to: “Bottom of the River” by Delta Rae

“Hold my hand…Oooh baby…It’s a long way down to the bottom of the river…”

So she says.

I’ve been re-evaluating so many things: How I spend my time. What makes me smile. Who I lean on when shit gets real. How I can be more present. The years I gave to a few family members who didn’t deserve it. Finding my true love at the age of 40. The changes happening to my body. My mind. My heart.

I generally wake up every single day happy to be alive. I have so many ideas bursting forth from my brain that I have to comb through what is viable in the immediate so that I don’t get overwhelmed with “set yourself on fire and drive 150 mph to make it all happen”.

When the pot has burned dry on the stove of my mind and there are nothing left but little white flecks of God-knows-what jumping around in the scorching pan, when it is all empty and on the verge of burning my entire house down, my most supreme truth is that I want what matters.

I want beauty. Not necessarily on my face but around me. In my world. Pretty things to look at, to touch, to smell. Serenity and joy and a warm bed of a job well done.

I want to spend less “bullshit” time on social media. I love knowing what everyone is up to, what is happening politically, all the latest memes making me smile, random articles on medieval torture or the latest recipe on Chicken Picatta, Facebook, Instagram, all of it. I love all of that but when I think of how I spent my day sometimes, there are too many things that don’t matter and a fair amount of those things come from what so-and-so is doing, who is catfishing with 15 year old photos, what bullshit Trump has pulled in his latest bid to destroy the world, or random diatribes from mouth-breathing trogs who I actually care not a single fuck about. I do like pretty pictures and poetry and beautiful videos and things that make me feel joy so…more of those kinds of things and less of the things and people who really are just simple and shallow and vapid as fuck.

Finally, I want to paint again or create…anything…with my hands. Not necessarily another website or another social sphere or another storefront or anything digital. Maybe jewelry or artwork or runes or cards or just…anything from my marrow.

So mote it be.

All of it.

And especially the gushy parts.

April (and it seems like May will be too) was a whirlwind of travel, activities, work obligations, and busy busy bee bee buzz buzz BUZZZ stuff.

I made good progress finding a doc to address some shit I’ve been ignoring and feel like I’m on track to make it work. Took a little trip to Portland to see some beloved friends who I haven’t seen in forever and who fill my tanks with such delight and nonsense and validation that I can’t even breathe it all out just yet. Made good progress at work with some huge projects and feel slightly less soul-sucked every day by the cadence of my career.

In true “me” fashion, I still have a looooong list of things that need doing for my home and side-hustles and personal obligations but I’m filling my tanks first with travel and parties and time with JD because re-prioritizing the important stuff has made all the difference.

Someone emailed wanting to buy the Planet. I repeated my well-rehearsed spill about how it was not for sale and would never be for sale since it is a community resource. They upped their price. I declined again. Charma used to ask me “why don’t you just sell the damned thing?”, especially if there was a lot of chaos or behind the scenes work going on, but even she knew I’ll hang on to it with my last dying breath.

During my divorce, attempts were made to shut it down. An “emergency” injunction floated over to my attorney’s office which we summarily had thrown out of court based on…well, it being absolute bullshit. I didn’t talk about it to the folks in the space because it was just too much stress to add to the pile and besides, what good does it do to make people feel like their space might disappear on the whims of an evil, petty, vindictive, junky-ass child masquerading as an adult. (Yes, I still have feelings around that b.s.) But alas, it’s mine. Forever. And hence, it will belong to the community forever. Or until I’m too old to do it and then I hope I’ll be able to turn it over to someone who cares about the space. We shall see.

I had to cut a friend loose recently for having unnatural expectations, shitty boundaries, and unacceptable behavior in my orbit. Disappointment always sucks but I was pretty proud of the work I’ve done around certain hard limits I have set when it comes to friendships and/or relationships of any kind. I’ve let folks close to me know, if you clown on me in certain ways or try to bully me into doing what you want? It’s a hard limit and you get no second chances. I love people and generally meet them where they are but I also value my mental space and ability to recognize folks who have work left to do that cannot include me.

May is about joy and flying through it. I’ve got some loose ends to tie up on some freelance work and another freelance contract brewing that might cover our upcoming vacation. Fingers crossed.

Also? I bought a couple more antique creepy babies in Portland and have set about rebuilding my menagerie of the macabre. Onward, weirdos, ONWARD!