fri/20220916

in

55ºF, clear, yet foggy: finding that standing helps even more than I had previously thought: think it has to do with that movement – and my muscle memory of percussion, of standing and moving to different instruments, in this case, keyboard to iPad to writing by hand (and, in a nod to my past iteration, to practice pad for GL Stone's STICK CONTROL exercises – helps me think): Walter Murch called it a dance, as he stands while editing, and, unsurprisingly, Mr Murch is correct.

Helps too, that I finally found a use for Muse: while Obsidian is my default brain – and, largely, the home of each final document – , Muse is a digital version of how I think: details, relationships between paragraphs, how they move and interact: deep focus boards (on the Mac, the big screen) within big picture boards (on the iPad) to work and manipulate those relationships. So far, haven't encountered any vanishing text issues in this Muse-era: relief, though one eye remains, as ever, open.

Donations made to candidacies of Tim Ryan, Nan Whaley, Stacey Abrams, Raphael Warnock, John Fetterman, Charlie Crist, and Beto O'Rourke: always feels good to contribute though I wish part of the contribution would involve a "minimal emails" option.

thu/20220915

in

56ºF, clear-ish: monitor + keyboard riser + Obsidian + ipad + Muse + standing desk + pen and paper = a winning combo, a dance between different elements, between different phases and sides, etc etc, all coming together for the final whatever-it-ends-up-as. In theory, anyhow.

Post-great-aunt-funeral haze continues: a combo, I think, of too much socializing and of too much telling the story of how my mother died (thanks for not wanting an obit: now I have to explain to everyone that you're dead when they ask – I swear, if more had asked how I was or if I needed help when you were alive, I mightve been possessed of if not a different set of emotions then at least more qualified ones) mixed with a general dissatisfaction of current path and no clear modification to vary it.

Staring at Twitter, my fourteen years of it, and I have no clue – other than a general pervasive addiction and hope that somehow something will materialize from it (meaning that my buying into the hook/line has become learned and habitual) – just what the hell I'm doing there: have to learn to be content with toiling here in my own little corner of the ether of indifference. Working on it.

funeral interminable

in

Today’s lesson: the only thing more interminable than a funeral is a funeral with a pastor who doesn't know the person going into the ground but can still prattle on for half an hour about nothing; I was simultaneously horrified by his inability to edit and impressed by his total belief that he didn't waste everyone's time. Pretty sure I heard my great aunt pleading with him from inside her coffin to just get on with it but I might have been projecting; jesusfuckingchrist indeed.

wed/20220914

in

58°F, clouds: First assembly of my TSR return / interview with Maud Newton complete: usually try to get to it within a few days of the interview, but I managed to pick a newsletter week to record, so I put it off until this morning which provided ample time for me to think about whether it was worth continuing the pod at all which, of course, it – despite the insane amount of work involved (at least I don't do transcriptions) – is: I enjoy doing the work so I'll continue doing it. Next up: write up a cheat sheet for the intro and outro that gives context to WHY I wanted to talk to Maud (other than it's Maud and she wrote a fucking brilliant book). Unless some delay pops up, on schedule to release a week from today.

(Also: learned that my desktop metal dry erase thing is BRILLIANT for taking notes during pod-assembly. VICTORY.)

Nintendo Direct inspired me to download ZELDA: BREATH OF THE WILD and ok I get it. What an amazing game: I've no clue what I'm doing, but I'm absolutely hooked. I've chopped down many a tree.

Funeral today for my great aunt. Coffin lifting and all that good stuff.

tue/20220913

in

59ºF, clouds: convinced that part of my Switch love is how much it reminds me of Sega's Game Gear, as close to a perfect portable system as one can get. Current game lineup is CUPHEAD, HADES, and UNTITLED GOOSE GAME in addition to the MARIO KART boot camp: I think I'm unraveling some of my niece's launch trickery. Victory will be mine.

Staring at the screen that's both filled and blank, a recognition emergent that not only do I not know what to write – both in the bird-by-bird and the broad sense – but I’m unsure of how to write it; suspect that it will take both what/how to solve said quandary, or a third (why?) or the right balance of the HW/Obs/Muse nexus but: can't decide if Muse is contributing to the solution or to the problem – or if it's showing me the problem which will, in theory/dreams, lead to the solution? Either way, might be time to let MainFictionThing percolate for a week and return to other MainFictionThing(s).

That said, something's sounding right though I don't know what. Alas.

RIP Godard; I had already planned a rewatch of ALPHAVILLE. Might have to push that up.