tue/20220809
Stormy last night with a power outage heralded by a flashing and popping transformer from somewhere through the window from 2345 until 0237 (which I know because I distinctly remember checking my phone first when we reported it and then again when it came back on). Lesson of this outage: I've underestimated how essential that fan has become to my sleeping: hated it when I first came to live here and now my brain doesn't shut up without it and my brain says some weird shit when the power goes out and the fan stops running.
"They even broke into my safe!" = this decade's "I am not a crook.'“
barnfall, part two
Over the past few weeks, a crew has been dismantling (and trucking off for expensive homes in Montana) the long-crumbling barn (built circa 1858) at my grandfather’s house. Today was my first time seeing the results in person: a strange, disorienting view sans the red monument that had been a constant presence every time I visited for the last 41 years. I absconded with souvenirs - will explore more later.
Original view from driveway (and here’s part one with more pictures from before the felling):
Current view from driveway:
Closer:
Cleanup crew should arrive in a couple weeks and it will be like it never existed.
now available: PRESS (A) TO START 01
Newsletter subscribers can now order up the first issue of PRESS (A) TO START, my a twice-a-year, print-only, newsletter-exclusive premium (though decidedly imperfect and raw) zine: this first issue features LAST CHRISTMAS IN JULY: A COWARD’S EXORCISM, an exploration of the complexities of the present and the narratives of memory and of regret following my mother’s death in April, my final act of settling both her estate and my mind. Sign up here to subscribe and request a copy - and be patient: since I’m assembling these myself, I’m estimating three to six weeks from request to your hands.
mon/20220808
PRESS (A) 01 is in the world (of newsletter subscribers) and I'm 41 and I've already started work on PRESS (A) 02: new Kanban created in Obsidian and a new main page for a phrase that's been in my head for awhile that managed to claw its way to the top of the brainmatter – and push another thing off to the wayside: as I'm a different writer than I was before 01, I'd rather explore this new clawing, see where it leads.
Arrival: I used gift cards to buy Kirby a menagerie of Jolly Balls and now he has eight of them in different sizes (horse-sized and slightly less than horse-sized) to play with in the backyard: may we all be as happy with things as Kirby was with the Jolly Balls; like Sheryl Crow said, it's not about getting what you want but wanting what you've got or something like that:
Why am I thinking of an early aughts Sheryl Crow song?
sun/20220807
(Happy birthday to me. )
While I can't say that it hasn't been a frustrating morning – nigh-incomprehensible sales tax rigamarole can an idea quickly transform – it has been an accomplished one: hitting send on the announcement email was, most definitely a moment of relief and catharsis: her estate – and my memory – is settled.
(I won't say closure because closure is bullshit.)
What I intend for PRESS (A) is that it be my *print-only* home for long-form, thought out works that function as a four-seater sushi restaurant / dive in a subway station dedicated to the exploration of my craft delivered between bent covers held together with binding tape or duct tape if I run out of the former and channeled from brain to reader via my own two hands in a DIY/punk/pulp/underground comix delivery system. Bottom line: whatever I want to do goes: this is MINE.
If nothing else, I feel as though I am where I am – and for the first time in years, I'm good with it. Best birthday gift I could ask for.
