Have You Seen This Cat?

From Jeffrey Henson Scales’ “House’s Barber Shop” series, 1987-1992

I’m sitting in the writerspace today, everyone click-clacking all around me, and big tears are silently sliding down my face.

I don’t know how to work on this book without letting in all the big feelings, and right now that means I am assaulted by the breakdown of the environment and our country and my relationship. Really, it’s my relationship. Sometimes I wish I were an ER doctor or an air traffic controller, someone whose work entailed putting out so many fires that there was no room for reflection or, goddess forbid, feelings. Sometimes I wish I were an actual firefighter. Continue Reading →

I’m Healing as Fast as I Can (Neon Sadness)

The phrase had been blinking in my head all day like a neon sign. I saw it as I woke, it kept flashing as I wrote.

I think, I think, that you carry heartbreak until it carries you.

Don’t get me wrong. I worked on my book today as promised–1300 words, thank you very much. B even says they pass muster. Then I had therapy–can we say it simply ran its course? But when I came up for air, I felt sad knowing the Legend was back in the neighborhood and we no longer were in contact. Until this week we could just pretend we were just in different places, on different schedules.

Not different frequencies.

Just as I was starting to feel really rudderless, K pinged for coffee, so we met up and ran into a friend and then another and another, and the conversation kept bobbing along, one thread into another like that last luxuriant day of school in Dazed and Confused.

K is a legend in his own right. Continue Reading →

Monday Is Not Moot

Happy Monday in bloody bloody bloody Ameriker. I’m on the writerspace blue velvet couch, decked out in soft clothes and bare feet. The music is queued (Elvis Costello, era-appropriate), as are the lemon water and chamo-mint tea and black sesame rice crackers. The beztie (B) is on high alert. The heart is duly on the mend. The FBI is on the job, technically at least, and the bloodbath of these allegedly united states has distracted me long enough. It’s time to delve into the final section of this book, and all excuses are hereby rendered moot. (NB: This honestly could take another eight weeks.) If all goes well, I’ll be quieter here this week as I delve deep. Wish me luck and I’ll wish you luck right back.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy