process(es)

in

A pattern, in focus: I become disenchanted with a medium once the process is poisoned, either by forces internal or external (more often than not the former, especially when they disguise themselves as imaginary external forces). Music, definitely external: the wrong-headed choice to pursue conservatory training killed any enjoyment I got out of performing and left me with scars I'm still struggling to overcome. Film, more of a combo of both. Loved and love editing a film and writing one, but the process of directing just didn't grab me like I'd hoped it would. Writing, definitely internal though some external factors played a role (read: no one gave a fuck which is an external factor that I allowed to masquerade as an internal one). Comics, I simply didn't enjoy the lengthy process of making one myself (aside from my daily Informalities, of course) and loathed the decades-long process of potential collaborations falling into the abyss of communicative ghosting; comics, as they say, broke my heart (doesn't mean I'm giving up, though). Working on antidotes now: the process of writing these daily pieces is an attempt to get me back to loving what writing offers me (mental exploration of questions, etc) and I'll be damned if I let the well of joy in metalwork be poisoned, especially by my own hand.

/202510021212

in

Weariness continues, though I'm doing far, far better than yesterday. Two sleepless nights took - and continue to take - their toll. A new surprise project has lurched forward and made its mark via a new burn on my wrist (thankfully not from the laser: I can both give cancer and remove it, go me). Had written a thing about another thing but didn't think that thing was worth committing to the digital ether. Not saying this one is either but at least it's more of the moment than the other thing was. A note to myself: "the words still aren't there; were they ever?"

cart / horse

in

Surprise surprise I got ahead of myself again and thought of form (zine! anthology!) and totally froze myself. Rededicating myself to working in / on whatever interests me in the moment and taking it day by day, minute by minute: shaping scrap metal, joining words together, drawing little index card cartoons of myself every morning, writing these things at midday. Not to say I won't pursue longer form or longer term works (longform doesn't always mean long term) but I won't set out to do so or assign it / them deeper value to my day and life than that. Make, release, make, release, make release...

why don't i write much here anymore?

in

Because everytime I write something (with the exception of this, maybe) with the intention of posting it here of late, I realize that simply the act of writing it is enough for me, and that publishing it isn't important. Once K's school year (last before retirement!) starts next month, I'll have more time to figure out how (or if) to incorporate writing back into my daily creative practice. Have some ideas, but nothing that I would categorize as pumice let alone concrete.

a big fucking corkboard

in

For the first time in more than 10 years I've a raging desire to buy a big fucking corkboard and fill it with index cards with scenes and scraps and phrases and stuff on them (in no particular order), a desire to bring the tactile prototyping approach to thinking that metal (or cardboard and tape) brings to the present (and far-preferred) iteration of my creative practice. Not sure what these hypothetical cards are meant to become – I remain proudly medium agnostic until the time comes to declare my project-faith – though I do know it will be something a.) I can do on my own (or learn to do on my own) and/or b.) nifty, the latter of which is really all that interests me these days. Or, perhaps, it's all just a desire to redecorate The Shed and make one of the walls more useful than as a shelf for things that could and probably should be shelved elsewhere because they're going to fall on me any day now.

thinking of writing something again why why why

in

yes but one written in this new way of working and influenced more by my passion for metalwork than encumbered by my past lives in various creative media that wanted nothing to do with me by virtue of shit timing and/or shit luck and/or shit writing; 67% honored as I was, I can't have three obituaries be the final things I get published (and they won't be – but the next non-self publishing is a ways off, and really out of my hands at this point). And, as metalwork starts taking off, I'm not adverse to showing up at art shows (otherwise I'll have to build another shed just to house all the shit I've built) but I think showing up with not only aforementioned shit but with a zine of ?? might make for an interesting melange. Have some notions I want to play with plus, since I've got some fresh ink that prevents me from doing any metalwork for a few days, might as well take the opportunity to play around, see what comes – maybe something, maybe nothing. Either way, it's nice to have that desire to write again – even if it won’t ever be the all-consuming thing it was, once upon a time.

/20250602_1027

in

A writing morning, hoping to make this the regular thing (though in summer months, I may have to switch: metalwork in the cooler mornings, writing in the AC'ed shed in the hot afternoons).

Aiming to wrap up one large project over the next couple days – or to at least have an incling as to an idea of HOW to wrap up one large project. Hopeful that finishing this one – started in the pre-metalwork days – can act as a bridge to whatever the next phase of my writing (process) looks like, one more influenced by metalwork than the other way 'round. Scribbling nonsense (and writing posts) to unstick / speaking of: Rite in the Rain pencil ➡️ paper love continues, especially since I've added a rOtring rapid PRO 0.7mm pencil to my graphite scribble practice.

Brought my BOOM3 speaker out to The Shed so maybe I can start my way through that Bandcamp / EarBliss backlog because why would I listen to music any other time right?

new approach

in

A shift in my writing practice, from the daily guilt-ridden grind of days, weeks, years past to a more "blast all of it in a few weeks or days when the need strikes" now. Perhaps what I was needing was something like metalwork (and my resultant newfound obsession with 3D printing not only to reproduce metalwork in plastic but to design pots for K since I found scanning and printing different versions of existing ones to be onerous, to put it mildly) to fulfill me in the non-writing parts of my day. Which are a lot of them. Far happier and more fulfilled, creatively, away from the computer, playing with fire and sparks and making weird metal things, than I am staring at a screen and hating myself for not being able to write something no one will read anyhow.

But yes, a new approach. Toying with the notion of blasting out a novella or something in a short time frame, two weeks to a month, when the need to write strikes me; otherwise, I'll tinker with metal stuff and mini-comics and Singularities and etc. A note to myself in my Obsidian canvas: long-form ≠ long-term.

Now I have figure out how to assemble this 3D printer cover because a shed is not the most dust-free place for a 3D printer to while away its non-whirring hours.

glimmers

in

Fun morning of playing with my electric metal shears and cutting up bits and bobs for the WIP, a prototype for something else (see: this week's earlier Replicate post for why I'm considering most of my metal things prototypes) with occasional glimmers of the writer coming out to play as I pick at the WIP over on that side of The Shed. Acceptance that my primary method is to go do other things while things percolate until a line or phrase shows up that fits and then bang the whole thing out while ignoring the guilt of not going about things the way I used to (because, clearly, that worked out oh so well). Out into society for a bit today, society being a waiting room and a book store and maybe an antique mall. Status: fit for public consumption, more or less.