why don't i write much here anymore?

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

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

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.

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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

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

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.

icemud

Morning's ice has given way to mud again though I did get to experience walking on icy mud which was certainly an experience but anyhow it seems that the key to making the writing part of The Shed as creatively appealing to me as the workshop side is to lock the desk at standing height so that I can pace to my quasi-beating heart's content: clearly, the lapsed percussionist of 20 years ago remains a steadfast part in position if not in performance – and besides, I always have Derbz's chair should I need to take the proverbial load off but only if he's not in The Shed with me because that's HIS chair, whether I'm in it or not.

tactile

Conversation with a good friend the other week made me realize what's going on with my move towards metalwork: I'm redisovering my love for and need of tactile creation. Suppose this love makes sense, given that my entrance into the arts was playing drums (hit stuff and that makes cool sounds) and that my downfall(s) began when I shifted more into the internal, less tactile arts (music composition, especially, though writing can't be absolved of its complicity in my descent into creative schizophrenia). Filmmaking was far more tactile than writing – though since I've also started drawing and cartooning, I'm bringing more tactile sensation to my storytelling (should it survive). And I can't forget that I've long considered accepting the Executive Director position at the NPO to be the biggest mistake of my career: I missed getting my hands dirty too much. Alas, live and learn. Eventually.

current status of various projects in various stages of yaaaay or fuckit

Writing this more for myself than for anything/one to give myself a lay of the land splayed out ahead that I can ignore as needed as I traipse about to wherever it is I'm going.

Writing: abandoned anything and everything that I'd consider aspirational, as in: anything that I hope leads to something else or a "writing career." Working solely on things that I either want to write simply because I want to write them (two short fictions) or that I'm writing for others (a short comic that could become more and a concept album) the latter of which came after I said I was considering being done with writing (cue Michael Corleone, GODFATHER: CODA). Nearing the end of one but have to dive back in on the other: been too long since I've looked at it and don't want to lose the feel for it as much as I'm fearing that I'm losing the feel for it.

Talking to others: my MacroParentheticals newsletter is dead; long live the titularly-challenged "whenever I finish something / feel like it" dispatch. I did the magazine model for more than a decade and I'm worn out. Sticking with this space as my main vessel for comms, as it has been for many years now. Haven't gotten sick of it yet, so I'll take that as a good sign.

Metalwork: I had a lot more fun tearing apart a glockenspiel than I ever had playing it. As for what it becomes, your guess is as good as mine, though pieces of its frame have already shown up. Toying around with some ideas for the keys. I also have a torn-down lawnchair waiting to become something, and a burnt-out recliner frame which has a design for its next life, though I have to bring its metal carcass here first.

Also have a portable welding table to assemble because now people are asking me to come weld things for them.

Cartooning / comics: Informalties - now borderless! – continue, as ever. Want to do another A.A. VOID. Starting to miss the little guy.

Painting: had fun – 15 minutes, to be exact – plan to have more fun. Best guess is that it might become a useful brain-unsticking exercise (15 minute / 30 minute time limit) than a full-throated vehicle of expression.

The Paintshop: The Collection's home and the workout area are complete. Unwanted / needed books delivered to the used bookshop, trash and other detritus either disassembled for metalwork or placed at the end of the driveway as an offering to the belching truck. All that remains is the ripping out of a sink and final clean-up before pool table reassembly and placement. And moving slate. Once that's in, I'll figure out how many more shelves to build.

And a next project. Probably another shelf for K's Botanical Garden set.

clean slate

Following yesterday's successful execution of a really shit draft of something really cool and the requisite making of distance between shit and un-shittifying, I returned to another thing I'd been playing with for a few years and, after staring at the same words and the same stuck spot, felt the magic wave a middle finger at me as it skipped town. So I've decided to do something I've never done before and – with the exceptions of current commitments to other people (hi Uzi, hi Jess), my daily Informalities and the ongoing adventures of A.A. Void, and this space and the newsletter – make a clean break with my current project slate AND with all of the past, failed fragments and notions to which I'd normally turn in these times of void. Time to start a new day creatively and prepare and till a new field for whatever seeds may spring; I suppose starting my notebooks over with a new 0001 after 37 volumes and 15+ years this week wasn't just a fresh start at numbering but a herald of the creative Galactus that landed today.