Don’t be afraid to be confused. Try to remain permanently confused. Anything is possible. Stay open, forever, so open it hurts, and then open up some more, until the day you die, world without end, amen.
George Saunders

Friday, June 26, 2015


Monday, June 15, 2015


So I met one half of Fly Moon Royalty over the weekend. I've seen them perform around town on occasion. Fresh.
Sad news from a friend today, of another fallen parent. Two friends have lost their fathers in the past six months. I know the deep gash of hurt and shock. It's a journey you make alone, despite the presence of lovers and family and friends. You must learn to survive without the parent. You must go on without the parent. And eventually you can thrive, without the parent.
Starting to mend. This has been a patience-testing voyage for sure. And all I can do is keep on, keep calm, and heal. 

Monday, June 8, 2015


Recovering from a bad fall. It happened after a night out, a few whiskys and some fine-ass 420, so I can only conclude that it was mostly self-inflicted.
Today is day three holed up with Advil, bandages and ice packs.
A faint and a visit to the ER.
Cautions about confusion.
Drinking iced coffee through a straw.
Binge netflixing.
And, it's a June heat-wave.
I'm ready for a break in the weather, internal and ex.
Graffiti from lower QA.

Saturday, May 30, 2015

hott city

It's been hot in Seattle. Hot and dry after a non-winter. We've had 80-degree days and it's only May.
People here get sun-crazy. On the train ride home last night, the guy behind me spent most of the trip on his phone, trying to get a ride from whatever station was coming up next, all conversation conducted in a loud urgent monotone. Across the aisle, two pairs of nerds in My Little Pony backpacks loudly debated Simpsons versus South Park. Merciful arrival at Westlake, transfer to a bus, where a contingent of drunk, still-drinking men lay across the back seats and talked belligerently, so much so that the driver got on her scratchy intercom and asked them to knock it off. Which of course made them more irate, and scream even louder. The guy sitting in front of me turned around to ask me for a dollar. Seriously, dude? I declined. One of the angry men lurched forward, yelling for the driver to let him off the bus and calling her a bitch.
I looked outside at the hazy moon and wished for rain.