Happy Halloween!

I was carving pumpkins with friends last night and the subject of "most terrifying moment in your life" came up. I'm still racking my brain on this one. I was a scared little kid. I had one of those imaginations that did things without my permission and there was rarely any reprieve. I remember my father attempting to relay strategies for me for dealing with it. Talking about distracting your mind and trying not to focus on the horrifying subject at hand. Unfortunately, my voracious imagination just laughed in the face of this and kept flooding my mind with bed spiders and faceless specters. I didn't stop sleeping with a light on until I was halfway through high school. And by light on, I mean a reading light that shined directly in my face.

I think this anxiety and fear originates in my understanding of the fragileness of a mind. I've never truly hallucinated myself, but I've been in states of mind so consuming and complete that I may as well have. It's hard to come to grips with your reality once this sort of thing has happened to you, and suddenly a whole world of terrible possibilities factor in to your day to day. Your mind could go at any point and for no apparent reason and once that occurs, there's no predicting the fresh hell your broken mind could unleash. This is when I've been the most scared. When a threshold of some kind has been crossed in what my mind is capable of without my consent, and I'm faced with "the dark's" worth of infinite terrors that can manifest with the drop of a hat.

Haiku of the Day:

Sifting through pumpkin guts
to get to slimy white pips.
Seed roast Smorgasbord!

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Cryptesthesia" from Dictionary.com's word of the day. It's alleged paranormal perception or clairvoyance.)

Today's "365" Project (Do something inspired by a song you love. I chose the Ghostbusters theme and carved a Slimer pumpkin.  I know it's my second pumpkin but it's Halloween damnit!)
"Less Obese Slimer"

Dismals

Day alone
left to devices
I plod about ponds
in neon green.

A lightness has begun
creeping in,
grams shaved off
the block of marble
over eons.

Where did the mantras come from?
"I should be dead. I should be dead. I should be dead."
What drives that foreboding sense of digression,
like I wandered behind the scenes
and can't get back to my seat?
"I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here."
I've slunk
under the glassy floor.
Fascinated by the rough underbelly
where I forget to breathe.
"I could be extraordinary. I could be extraordinary. I could be extraordinary."
But those magical pockets
of gold dusted synapse
fill to the membrane
holy multitudes
and for a brief flicker
I belong.

Haiku of the Day:
Sweet bubbles and acrid
ferment tingle with smoky hues:
Fall Beer Fantastic!

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Collywobbles" from MW's word of the day. It means a stomachache. I've decided I'm drawing monsters for the last of October.)

Today's "365" Project (FINALLY! I finished the piñata I set out to make a month ago. It turned out miserable. His name is Phillip. He's an acne-ridden beast who wants nothing more than to not be smashed for the skittles and reese's cups that make up his insides. Unfortunately, we cannot oblige his wishes. His death will be swift, violent and fueled by sugar-lust.)
"Poor Phillip"

Breaching

Watch Wednesday (Week 18)

Stats:
Running Mileage: 308.16/1,000
Push-ups: 2,925/10,000
Sit-ups: 2,850/10,000
Pages Read: 3,872/10,000
Books Completed: 12/25
Words Written: 32,818/100,000

Fasts (Days without)
Internet: 34/100
TV: 46/100
Gaming: COMPLETE 118/100
Meat: 49/100
Junk: 33/100
Booze: 20/100

-I'm clawing away furiously in and at all of my behaviors. Put together some fun Excel algorithms so I have a mathematical sense of how I'm doing in the grand scheme of things. Emily has expressed concern that the project is pushing me too far and too hard. I'm beginning to agree with her. It's the relentlessness of it. If I consider anything outside the confines of my present day, the whole thing starts to fold in upon itself. The approaching winter makes me weary...I'm considering joining a gym from the months of December through March so the runs don't turn into hellish affairs.

-Writing took a bit of a beating this week and only crops out when I feel backed into a corner. Setting out to write around 300 words a day wrings you out and topics grow thin on the ground.

-Going to attempt to read Dune for my next book, which at a whooping 800+ pages may prove troublesome.

Haiku of the Day:

Hunkered, his bulk bent,
the snarling monstrosity
 prepares for the charge.

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Quixotic" from MW's word of the day. It means foolishly impractical especially in the pursuit of ideals.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something that looks like it's passing through a wall or something. Another monster!)
"Through the Desk"

Deckhands and Vamps

Parched,
with lips stripped white and fraying,
the boatswain wavers
about the lurching galley.

The seductive sussurations
of ocean froth,
swell and diminish
like night static
and beckon with whispers.
"Huussssshhhhhhh"
"Bluusssssshhhhhh"
"Cruusssssshhhhh"

Unnerved by the sea's articulations,
the boatswain stumbles his way
to the upper deck hatch.
He peels it open with an impressive heave
and unleashes the rage
and full invasion
of fluid elements.

Hulking, the boatswain bubbles forth
from the dry, woody warmth of the boat's belly.
The rain and wind transform him
into a slick, pathetic gosling,
bent and shivering on twiggy legs.

He hobbles aft with reeling limbs,
eye sockets clenched for fear of exposure.
The boatswain makes blind grasps
toward a trembling length of rope
but misses the mark,
and tumbles to the oaken planks.

On the harsh and slimy wood,
the boatswain breathed his last
as a callous, curling block of ocean
knocked him loose
and scud him to the deep.

Haiku of the Day:

Feral animals
lap honey from my earlobes
while simpletons gape

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Sempiternal" from MW's word of the day. It means, weirdly enough, never-ending or eternal.)

Today's "365" Project (Mail a postcard to a stranger. I got this from a book of creative postcards. I'm sending it to someone in Topeka, Kansas because it was the first place I could think of.)
"Invitation to Let Loose"

Bedraggled Clutcher

Monster Monday

The Bedraggled Clutcher

The bedraggled clutcher is a small spider the size of  a coaster (legs included) with prominent forclaws that extend outward. The clutcher is considered to be the arachnid equivalent to the magpie, hoarding and storing the items it gathers with its foreclaws. After gathering, the clutcher will nestle the objects in the sticky hairs on its back until it can return to its nest. The purpose of this behavior is not explicitly clear, and is the subject of much debate among cryptozoologists. The leading theory in the field is that clutchers require an elaborate and diverse nesting site for attracting potential mates. This theory is backed by the amount of time and care the clutcher takes in designing and weaving its webby den and how the females tend to be very choosy about which den they prefer.

 There is a small following of researchers who subscribe to the theory that clutchers are actually pathovores (creatures that feed off of emotions) and that they feed specifically off the feeling of bewilderment and doubt that arises when a human discovers that an item the clutcher has taken is missing. The evidence they present is the soft purring sound made by the spiders while their victim, the human, is desperately searching. The purring is thought to be a crude retrieval method, where the vibrating hairs that line the clutcher's body snag the psychic waves emanating from the human host.

Not many people have seen a bedraggled clutcher in the wild, as their hideous appearance strikes one with a slight amnesia upon observation. The effects of this can be countered however, if you just imagine the clutcher with the face of a rabbit. This technique takes training and there are instances of many different cultures employing this method in order to track the creatures, (the "rabbit imagining" is more of a western development, there have been cases of imagining as a mouse, a kitten, a meercat or a capybara.)

Once trained, you learn to see the horrid little beasts everywhere, twarting people of their keys, pens and other less precious possessions. At first the display is terrifying, especially when you realize they are also targeting you, but over time there comes to be a mutual respect for the monsters. There have been no instances of bedraggled clutchers attacking anyone and some find the effects of their purring enlivening, as it "sucks out the confusion and doubt."

Haiku of the Day:

The bowed phone gazers

sway like doleful reeds perched on

the edge of a pond.

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Homage" from MW's word of the day. It's a tribute or gesture of respect.)

Today's "365" Project (Make an animal that never existed. I'm going with my monster for Monster Monday and going one step further and drawing a picture.)

Wonky

Electrified with creative juices after an intense session of nerdy board gaming. Haven't sat around with folks from my own peer group in a long time (with the exception of Emily of course.) It's something interesting about adulthood that I didn't anticipate - how crazy disparate the ages of friends can be. Of course, age starts to matter much less in adulthood with priorities shifting to things like experience, class, and most importantly, proximity.  It is easier than ever to have and maintain long-term relationships, but that still doesn't mean it's not a great deal of work. It's something I get very anxious about...and I'm sure I'm not alone in this.

But man, there's nothing like the high of coming off a good group hang out.

Haiku of the Day:

 Played the Quiet Year,

a cartography based game,

with theater friends!

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Maunder" from MW's word of the day. It means to speak indistinctly or disconnectedly.)

Today's "365" Project (Write a ten word autobiography.)
"Major Flail"

Struggling for stability on a bike, not wearing a shirt.

Four Months!

Busy day out enjoying the not crummy weather. Got some pants. Read. Ate some food. Amazing to have a Saturday free to do next to nothing.

Oh yeah and I guess I've been doing this for four months now. Wooo!

Haiku of the Day:

Toiling at the stove:

Vegetarian Scotch Eggs

for all the masses!

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Vendetta" for MW's word of the day.)

Today's "365" Project (Do something with wood. Emily and I went out on the uncharacteristically beautiful and warm late October day, did some shopping and walked through the Common where I made this.)
"Cthulhu Spider"

Stuck Funk

I do the nose bridge press: Sliding my glasses up to my forehead. Thumb and middle finger digging into my eyes, where the tear ducts nestle. Feeling the shape of the sockets as film cigarette burns form in the corners of my fade-to-black vision.

I only do it cause I've seen it in the movies. A gesture of completive frustration. Often I'll massage the bridge of my nose to wring out the pressures. No clue whether it works.

These days have been meager on the writing front. The flood of time, post-show, cooled all the auxiliary reactors. Tomorrow marks the 1/3 point and it's still a fight. I'm once again pretty sick of the constant patterns in my writing, my drawing, my voice. To have it bouncing back so much is a sort of psychic pollution I did not anticipate.

There are derisive voices in the echoes. They speak to me like a I'm a child, a placating condescension: "That's cute." "Good for you." "That sure is something!" "Way to go!"  Encouragement out of pity.

Eh.

The Geiger counter's out of calibration, that's all. A solid shift, a shake of sight, or some chemical jolt and things will come back in focus. Already I feel the bristle of the tiger's eyes on the nape of my neck....

Haiku of the Day:

Magic wearing off
in the mystic pink foldings
under hair and skin

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Lyric" from MW's word of the day. It means suitable for singing or expressing direct personal emotion.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something that flies. So I looked up some paper airplane designs and liked this one best. It does NOT fly well.)
"The Flopper"

Put On

Dreary storm day. Pent up from the winds we feast and nest like bears.

Haiku of the Day:

Older man on train

keeps smacking his mouth to make

wet porridge noises

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Interlocutor" from MW's word of the day. It means one who takes part in a conversation.)

Today's "365" Project (Purchase a kit of some kind and make something that's not in the instructions. Naturally, I got Legos! It was a 3 in 1 sort of thing with a helicopter, biplane and pontoon boat. I made this monstrosity.)
"Mouse Wing"

Carving Up!

Watch Wednesday (Week 17)

Stats:
Running Mileage: 278.09/1,000
Push-ups: 2,500/10,000
Sit-ups: 2,500/10,000
Pages Read: 3,662/10,000
Books Completed: 11/25
Words Written: 31,284/100,000

Fasts (Days without)
Internet: 31/100
TV: 43/100
Gaming: 111/100
Meat: 46/100
Junk: 29/100
Booze: 18/100

Starting the post show overhaul! Hoping to get caught up on push-ups and sit-ups and at get within 20 miles of being on course by the time November rolls around. Working on the booze front later in the month with the Kuehn.

Haiku of the Day:

Wallet lost, rain pours
as I run on, cold and wet,
with my plasma veins.

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Pavonine" from Dictionary.com's word of the day. It means of or like a peacock, or resembling the colors of a peacock. I made a stencil of a peacock and carved it on a pumpkin!)

Today's "365" Project (Do something with triangles. Emily helped me out with it with her pumpkin!)
"Jaunty Terror"

Stars, Eggs, Hands

I adore extending my hand.

Watching the tendons press out against my skin and blue veins.

It makes me feel like a warrior.

A great shaking beast with the power to clench

and grasp and hook and tickle.

I pretend to palm expansive spheres

and press into their imaginary membranes.

And then, gently, I'll place the tips of my fingers

in the meaty creases

and marvel at the ticking, resonant, whoosh

of blood to the tactile, brutal and sensitive parts.

A reverence of body

rustles the spirit

like chilled hair follicles

and a white calm

blankets the surface of my waking.

I flux outward to the birthplace of

my bustling constituency

and for a wondrous break,

I forget to breathe,

instead taking in the reckless abandon

of wandering electrons.

Haiku of the Day:

Little victories

in organizing spreadsheets

energize the day

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Redux" from MW's word of the day. It means brought back.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something out of an eyeshell. So I poked a tiny hole in one end and a slightly bigger one on the other and slowly blew out the thing's guts. And then using some nail polish made a pretty face!)
"REGGedy Andy"

Melancollie and Can Drums

Monster Monday

The Melancollie

A melancollie is a sentient, aqueous, invertebrate ephemeron that originated in Denmark, but ended up populating most of the lakes in the Northern Midwest when the first settlers entered the region. They behave as most ephemera do, entering a space for only short periods of time (typically a day) and then dissipating. But unlike more common ephemera, the melancollie consists of water rather than light or shadow. They are born when a human experiences a moment of supreme longing while gazing over a body of water.

Provided the appropriate amount of longing and melancollic microcites, The melancollie will form as a collaborative mist and gradually drift toward the human longer. Only a few humans are able to spot the melancollie, by nearly all can feel its presence as it reflects the echoes of longing in hopes to ween out more feelings from its host.

There have been instances of humans managing to produce enough longing to have a melancollie as a permanent sort of familiar. These people tend to be rather unpleasant and moist. If the melancollie stay around long enough, it begins to shed melancollic microcites which are tiny organisms that when they come in contact with human skin, they produce a sudden shudder of sorrow and longing, often immediately gathering at the tear ducts.

A note: The melancollie can be confused with the female Four Horned Forlorn, but they can be easily differentiated by testing the water from whence they spawn: forlorn's stick to salt water and melancollies are strictly fresh.

Haiku of the Day:

Supervisor wrath,

a force of red-faced malice,

spurs playground echoes

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "impunity" from MW's word of the day. It means exemption or freedom from punishment, harm or loss.)

Today's "365" Project (Make an instrument)
"The Can Quints played with Tin Talons"

Chomping

Breath returns
Chest muscles slacken
The build-up of acids
slick the frayed red strands
that connect my birch white framework.

I wrung and thrived and seeped
in cluttered, stuffy darkness -
communicated in leans, whispers
and punctuated gestures.

Haiku of the Day:

Watching the clouds pass

from the middle U-Haul seat

contemplating ends

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Esculent" from MW's word of the day. It means edible.)

Today's "365" Project (Do something in a box. Walking Dead homage!)
"Warning!"

Strike

Today was the last run of my show. I'm supposed to do a project about going somewhere you don't typically go and making something there. I'm choosing to interpret this entire theater project as that. I went somewhere I had never really been before with this show and with some wonderfully talented people and made a beautiful thing. It was hard. It had a ton of players and pieces. And it certainly had it's mistakes and blunders. But it felt great to be back in a space with a supportive crew, sweating our asses off and having a wonderful time. I couldn't be more grateful for the experience I've been through. Thank you imaginary beasts!

Haiku of the day:

Sweat, make-up, laughter

dust, tears, crashes, shadows, light

Flashes of the month

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Psychopathy" spoken with doubts by Kaitee Treadway.)

Today's "365" Project (Go somewhere new and do something there. See above!)
"Cheers to Knock!"

Quitting Difficulty

Quitting a behavior is difficult. It's not like other endeavors, like learning to play the piano, where the more you think about piano, the better you get at it. Quitting is the opposite. The more you think about quitting and the logistics of staying "quit", the higher the likelihood of  returning to the thing you quit. At least this has been my experience.

The three best tools I've found in quitting are distraction, rules, and substitution. I list those in order of effectiveness and least amount of harm

The easiest one to grasp is substitution. Trouble quitting smoking? Try gum instead! This is a superficial fix, from a behavior standpoint, and doesn't make you any less of an addict. The replacement can end up backfiring and provide you with another thing that leads you to your addiction:

"Oh man. You know what gum reminds me of? Smoking! Anybody have a cigarette?"

And sometimes you end up leaning heavily on other addictions and for me, it was alcohol. I believe I drink more now because of how I dealt with quitting smoking.  But substitution is very helpful if you're main motive behind quitting is to get rid of a detrimental effect, with smoking being the most obvious example.

Rules are great if you have an enforcer. For some folks, they can stand in as their own enforcer. I unfortunately cannot. At least not once I've made a small infraction. And I tend to set some harsh rules so once one gets bent it may as well be broken and then all hell can break loose. I could spend nearly a whole day fasting from junk food, then eat one gummi bear and I'll eat seven hot dogs. It's gotten that extreme with the daily fasts. That's why you have to be a friggin lawyer about your rule setting or else you're bound to find your own loopholes. Adaptability is key.

I'll talk about distraction once I stop sneezing. It's the only thing I can concentrate on in this moment so I can't be bothered with much else.

Haiku of the Day:

Kuehn left to run the

Baltimore Half-Marathon.

I'm so proud of her!

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Forswear" from MW's word of the day. It means to reject, deny or renounce under oath. Or to renounce something earnestly. Like "I forswear Arby's after the terrible Cheese Incident of 2007")

Today's "365" Project (Do something in the dirt. Wait...really? Well I guess if you have to make up 365 of these suckers, they're not all going to be winners.)
"Dowsing Rod Root I Saw and Dug Up Three Blocks From My Apartment at 2:30 in the Morning"

Undercurrent

Work

The office is cold.
I sit, with an aching back, and ponder the glistening, wet film over my eyes.
I sip a watery chai tea and let the guffaws, tittering taps and chair rustlings of my coworkers puncture my focus.

There's a large pile of blue and white folders to my left, eager to be handled and submitted to electric code.
I consider my lusty hungers and systematically dismiss their sick mewlings. I tell them: Today is a day for resistance. For strength. And they cowar and simper and whine in tiny breaths. Pitiful. I try to forget they are my children and swat at their greasy mouths with my fingers rigid. They stop. For a time.

I contemplate the thin nature of my skin and poke my palms with a bent paper clip. I feel like a doctor. Prodding. Then I get nauseated with the clinical milieu of the space and swiftly dive back into work.

Haiku of the Day:

Foreboding thrums beat

out in the graying city

under construction 

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Conk" from Dictionary.com's word of the day. It has a variety of definitions. I don't feel like typing them. You look them up if you're so friggin' curious. And after that I decided to ignore the prompt completely and draw some weird ghost shape things.)

Today's "365" Project (Make a facial expression with your leftovers. I've done this many times just not with leftovers because I never have them. I've tried to do this one for a few days now and I just never remember until I've already eaten everything.)
"My Greek Salad's Miserable Melancholy"

Booze n' Branches

Watch Wednesday (Week 16)

Stats:
Running Mileage: 263.99/1,000
Push-ups: 2,165/10,000
Sit-ups: 2,130/10,000
Pages Read: 3,312/10,000
Books Completed: 9/25
Words Written: 29,349/100,000

Fasts (Days without)
Internet: 29/100
TV: 41/100
Gaming: 104/100
Meat: 43/100
Junk: 25/100
Booze: 18/100

A Letter to Alcohol

Dear Al,

We've been pretty close friends since we met back in my freshman year at college. I thought you were a little weird at first and I wasn't sure exactly how to act around you. It didn't help that lame Uncle Sam forbid us from hanging out, but we made it work. Those were some good years, and we were practically inseparable when we went to Scotland. 

But I'm four years out of school now and I'm afraid our relationship has stagnated. Sure we've gotten more serious, I got into brewing and I'm able to keep nice liquors in the house for more than a few days, but I'm getting less and less out of this arrangement. Your tastes have gotten REALLY pricey since moving to Boston and you never foot the bill. Our interactions are more exhausting than I remember and I'm in a lot of pain after a night of hanging out. You make me eat bad food and things always get so emotional and intense with you around.

The thing is, Al, I'd like for us to go to being just casual friends, meeting up maybe two or three times a month to catch up and maybe have a little fun. But damnit Al, it's just too hard. 

We have all the same friends and I can't hang out with them without you showing up at some point. EVERYONE thinks you're just the life of the party and I tend to agree with them, but sometimes I wonder if it's all hype. Yeah you have the special way of getting people to relax and feel good about themselves but I see how you treat a lot of people too. You're manipulative and selfish and sometimes downright maniacal. I don't even think you realize the effect you can have on people...

Anyway, I don't know if this letter will change the nature of our relationship or make much of a difference in the long run, (we could end up friends for life,) but I at least wanted you to know how I feel.

Thanks for being there, despite everything.

Michael

Haiku of the Day:

Our show was cancelled
due to a freak lighting surge.
Supremely saddened.

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Mythomane" from Dictionary.com's word of the day. It means an individual with a strong propensity for lying or exaggerating.)

Today's "365" Project (Do something with a map)
"T Expansion"

The Creeps

Midnight Showing

Breaking out the fevers,
The shambling graspers
bow their heavy crowns,
taking shallow dips in the fragrant pools
that gather with expectation.
A fleeting peace wafts through the planks
of my makeshift garrison.
You hear the hearty plunks?
The song of the skeleton man
as he walks and jangles
out the rickety pier
on feet, slender and jointed -
A limp succumbant
to the whims of strings.

Ring Around

Coiled tight in the flow of my dervish
my eyes swell as the weight of my blood
pulls flesh away
from the painful curvature of my spine.
Centrifugal abandon.
I'm filled with the glee
of vertigo and vomit
and fall to hard wood
worn by callused soles
and scratched by night creatures.
I giggle and subside
as the grit digs my naked back.
In breaths, the beginnings of a cold
needle my throat
where the snot and spittle drains.
And I feel so close
to what the space between
fingers is all about.
But the rings flash and fade
etching out the branches
behind my eyelids
and I dissolve back
into the mystic ether.

Haiku of the Day:

Closeness on the train
dupes the mind into feeling
intimacy there.

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Juvenescent" from MW's word of the day. It means being youthful or young.)

Today's "365" Project (Do something with tin foil)
"Magic Swan Pie Boat"

Fear and Snails

Monster Monday

The Mid-Atlantic Rustler

The Mid-Atlantic Rustler is an eight foot tall sand crane native to the Chesapeake Bay. They eat seals and large sea bass and have been known to eat human swimmers if hungry or provoked. Not much all is known about them because they have amazing hearing, sight and memory and have hunted down nearly every human observer that has seen them in the wild. Except for me. I am the only person to have seen a Mid-Atlantic Rustler and survive. I live in fear everyday. Someone help me. I'm reaching out now because I saw a Mid-Atlantic Rustler in a trench coat and sunglasses on the T today. I'm afraid to leave my apartment. I don't know how much time I have left...

Haiku of the Day:

Tikka masala

made with chickpeas is freaking

super delicious

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Posthaste" from MW's word of the day. It means with all possible speed)

Today's "365" Project (Do something with red. "But wait," you say, "Shakespeare's not red!" And then I say, "Shakespeare's read by lots of people!" And then I cry myself to sleep. )
"Red Shakey"

Table Scraps

So I missed my first day for posting yesterday. With two shows and family in town it was a sort of perfect storm. Managed to get the drawing, haiku and project done, but got hung up on the writing too long and ended up posting a few minutes late for the deadline.

This is a milestone as much as my hundredth. It may actually be more important because I am inclined to quit when things become less than perfect. It's the dance between the rule enforcing and rule making.  This is not a setback but a step forward.

Haiku of the Day:
Gripping the seat's edge,
the passenger bites her lip
and prays for reprieve.

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Megillah" From MW's word of the day. It's a slang term for a needlessly long story that stems from yiddish.)

Today's "365" Project (Do something with toast. I got some good olive bread from "When Pigs Fly" a wonderful local bread company, and stuck some eggs in it. Garnished it a touch with a Peach-habanaro salsa I received yesterday from my aunt, the whole thing was delicious.)
"Brinner Joy"

First Missed Date!

Not much happening today. Talking about 8th grade breakups with my brother and his girlfriend and it's a beautiful thing.

Haiku of the Day:

Five shows this weekend

and the neurons fry full blast

I smell the sizzle

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Prehensile" co-opted from Noah Simes and Kaitee Treadway.)

Today's "365" Project (Do something with paint swatches. I made a little man from wedding color swatches.)

"Minimalist Simpsons Character"

Diatri-Ball

Emily left early this morning to go to a family wedding. Next week she'll be heading off to Baltimore to run the half-marathon. I'm sad to be missing both of these trips, as traveling with my lovely fiance is one of my favorite things. But part of the price of pursuing passions (unintentional alliteration) is missing out. It's this difficulty I'm running up against more, and I'm torn about whether it's a product of the time I live in, the age I'm at or the ambitions I have. Of course, like most things, it's probably a gradient blending of the three, (with some fourth, five and sixth reasons just crouching behind them, waiting for enough passing time to present themselves when it's no longer useful.)

I have all the normal fears of wasted potential, but so much of it hinges on my future self being disappointed with the decisions I'm making now. Only I currently have no regrets for what my past self has done: Those actions have made me who I am today and I like that person. I think the big fear stems from there existing an act so irrevocably bad that when I make it, I will become a regretful person. Or that there is a "point of no return" in aging where I realize there are things I will never get to do. But if I had wanted to do them, they would have been done.

This is where my frustration spirals. Despite "logic-ing" my way out of the anxieties in the realm of head-space, the heart space or lizard-brain-land creeps in the default switch, reverting everything back to an ape normal. And I have rejigger my way back out all over again. It's in those moments of reversion, when I realize I've been on this road before and I know what I have to do to get back. That's when the Sisyphus loops play out and I crave course correction.  That can take a dismal route if I'm in a dark mindset, but most of the time all it takes is a good song or a long train ride to cleanse the circular palette  and start up from a new point of reference.

Yetch. I get all reflecty without the Kuehn.

Haiku of the Day:

Halogen bathes dank
spaces in ultraviolet
sheens of pale sickness

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Solipsistic" from Michael Underhill while he was applying makeup in a bald cap and dirty red boots. For those unfamiliar, it relates to the notion that only the self exists, or that the self is the only thing that can be proven to exist and that everything and everyone else is a fabrication/illusion)

Today's "365" Project (make a ball out of something...or do something with a ball.)
"So I was drunk coming home and it was already 1 am so I rushed around the house to find something that either resembled a ball or could be made into a ball. And then I got hungry and thought "Oh man, bread is malleable." and then took out one of the heels of a current loaf and balled it up and took a picture of it. That is the story and title of this entry. Hope it makes up for the crappyness of the post in general."

Outpour

"Free-versin'-it" Thursday

Noesis

Blurting the Lord's name in panic,
As a bus nearly barrels me out of existence,
I succumb to a spiritual shuddering.
A deluge of fond memories cascade
with the bustling Bostonians,
making their pilgrimage to bright, looming marvels.

I recall a time of comfort and companionship
when God was my council. When I imagined a pervading vein
of humanness throughout all of creation,
a humanness that listened, loved
and guided the world in tiny motions.

Who sent me angels in my direst cells,
when minutes became infinite with itchy echoes
of burdens, surly and ravenous.

Who cushioned psychic grapplings
with a knowing silence
and whispered warm vibrations
in the dreaded hallows of night temples.

This imagined force swoops back,
in the wake of the bloodthirsty bus,
and takes hold of me.
I am swaddled
from the steam,
the squalor,
the gaunt lifeless faces.

And in that gasp
of weightless reassurance
I lose my mind
and feel the bile and bristle
of the forward push
flourish into a glowing milk,
a salve for gaping lesions.

And then it passes.

Like a flash of lightning,
I'm left with white hot retinas
and the gnawing impotence
of witnessing unadulterated
power.

Haiku of the Day:

Girl attempts to light
a cigarette while on bike
nearly eats asphalt

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Infinitesimal" from MW's word of the day. It means infinitely small.)

Today's "365" Project (Get something from the thrift store and make something with it!)

I found something wonderful. It's called pneumablock. They're little blocks with eyes that look like the "Kilroy was here" dude.

 They are from Japan apparently. Here's a picture of the transcript from the back of the box it came in.

If you can't read it, my favorite part is the final line:

"In the complex world we live in, Pneuma Block helps philosophers of today and recalls the past with this word"

Glorious.

Here are some of the shapes they suggest making (this is all verbatim from the back of the box):

Man with hat

Farmer on water buffalo

Pigeon gazing at sea

Unpopular octopus

Lonely pirate

Sea otter preoccupied with eating

BBQ Friends (my personal favorite)

Cowardly baby wolf

And then I made some of my own:

Yosemite Sam without hat

Race relations in America

The Nuclear Incident

Hollering Luchador

Could not have been happier with this purchase. It was at the thrift store called "Boomerang" They were having a relaxed Thursday thing and serving free wine that I would have had if I wasn't on the way to a show. The woman at the counter also tried selling me a Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Puzzle and I immediately regretted not buying the minute I left the store. So great.