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in

Domed, day two, day infinity. New vacuum cleaner arrived and is fully assembled. House vacuumed. Derbz helped, with both assembly and with vacuuming though spent most of the time barking at it.

I’m staring at a thing I want to turn into something but heat-brain precludes me from figuring out where to start / etc etc (begin from the beginning and go on through to the yeah fuck you rabbit or hatter or whichever one you were I’m under the dome here).

Three dead in a fire at a local Econo Lodge, cause still under investigation. Local newspaper so pathetic the story wasn’t written by a local reporter but one for a Columbus paper (90 minutes south) and any and all news I’m getting on it is coming from Cleveland news stations (45-60min north).

Under the dome, indeed.

a brief note on “process videos”

in

I don’t and won’t make “process videos” because, one, I have no clue what I’m doing as is and therefore dedicate all my concentration to not cutting off limbs and/or setting myself on fire; and two, I’m enough of an internet boomer (young Gen-X or ancient millenial cusper that my 1981 self is) to remember the last time “share your process” was all the internet rage, back in 2006-2013, give or take, and to remember those dark days, weeks, months, and years that I was vulnerable, green, and hopeful enough to waste what creative energy I had back then on it with precisely fuckall to show for it now so pardon me if, in this, the video / hey guys era of process (videos), I’m resolved to keep my practice and my limbs to myself – though I’m sure a TikTok of an old shit like me losing a finger would be a total viral sensation but nonono/sorry: the most you’d get would be is a little run-on grotesque like this typed with nine fingers or less on the internet equivalent of a cuneiform scroll (insert blogs rool / toks drool or somesuch chant of the internet-old and infirm). Dog videos on the other hand? Count me in.

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in

We are under the dome (a book which I neither finished nor watched the series because clearly it’s not like we need a dome to be assholes to one another and we definitely dont need a 900-page book full of forgettable characters and Hank from BREAKING BAD being assholes to each other to see the size of assholes we can be to one another) and it is, indeed, hot.

Before the dome got too ant-under-a-magnifying-glassy, finished that piece that was going to be another piece a day later than I expected because it fell over and broke just as I was taking off the clearcoat cap last evening. As per usual: threw a table, tried rebuilding, failed miserably, decided I was too tired; took me 15 minutes to reassemble this morning. Presently clearcoated, posted here and to the whims of the algorithmic deities, and on my shelf (not sure I’d sell this one – always a good sign).

Big weird yard thing next probably, here, under the dome.

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in

Heat dome inbound, hot and sultry or is it sultry and hot or is it both (yes): a desire, again, that words dwell in this space, somewhere – small syntheses of somethings, Montaigne’s “grotesques,” etc; a desire to do my part to make the internet weird again via the half-cooked notions of a recluse talking to himself from the top of his shed.

(Will this desire continue through to tomorrow? TBD)

Today, before the heat really kicks in: finishing touches on a smaller piece that was another piece until I built the piece I was trying to build in the first place and it freed up this piece to be something different.

Tinkering (I hesitate to call it work) on a new story continues; I rather like it. Do I know what it's about? Sure, but I won't hold that against it.