Folks and Notions

A few spare breaths today.

In lieu of my impending marriage, I've been thinking about the future and my parents. I realize as I approach 28, at this age my parents just had me. It boggles the mind. The strength it takes to embark on that journey to care for another human being for nearly two decades. I want to say that there's no way I could do it, but I think becoming a parent is one of those things where you find the capability, the patience and sheer force of will to make it happen. Like how some tasks are so intimidating they push you up against a wall in such a way that you finally see yourself for what you are: your cracks and your pillars, your fears and priorities.

If it wasn't clear by now, I'm grateful my parents embarked on the journey of parenthood...I'm here, after all. And to them and all those who choose to be parents, I commend you for your gall and sacrifice. It's one of the most harrowing and invigorating things we can do as a species.

***********

In other news, yesterday I discovered that two of my ideas that I thought were original have already been implemented. This is not a common phenomenon, but to have two ideas dashed out of existence in the same day is pretty exceptional. The first idea was a method of signaling to your waiter in a restaurant what you wanted through a colored LED system: red for assistance, blue for water and green for bill. Turns out the Applebee's we went to yesterday already had something like that in operation. About time I guess.

The other was a touch more devastating , as I had written a blog post about it like a week ago. If you didn't follow the link, it was the card game to determine the first player for any other game. As luck would have it when I was at the game store, I saw this very concept tucked away in one of the shelves. It's called Start Player and I looks like they did a pretty good job of it. Alas, I shall have to make my living elsewhere.

Haiku of the Day:
Among the dead leaves
Two purple shoots pop, singing
A spring rally cry

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Refluent" from MW's word of the day.

Today's "365" Project (Make something out of plastic utensils.)
"Place Setting Conflict"

An Attempt to Recreate a Day

An Attempt to Recreate a Day

I wake, as many do, half in dream and to the tiny blare of an alarm. I fumble about to snooze it and fall asleep once more. Then I awake to the din of Emily's phone and I wait for her to move to change it. In this brief moment I always wait to see if she is alive and there is a tension until she moves to turn it off. Some days I nudge her, but this is not one of those days. This routine of call and answer with our alarms goes on for about a half an hour until the pressure of the time makes me throw off the sheets and exit the bed. It is cold in the apartment and this does not make waking any more pleasant.

I walk about the apartment, as I often do, in a constant search, a lost amble. Even after living here for nearly half a year, there is something about the place that makes me feel lost. Perhaps it's the narrow hallway that sets the spine of the space, or the doorways that always seem to be open or closed when I don't need them to be. Regardless, I spend the next five minutes looking for the first thing I should do, parsing over my waking brain for priority. My bladder responds in kind and I head to own cell of a bathroom to relieve myself.

Once in the bathroom, I get a good look at myself and cringe. I need to shower. My hair has formed into greasy tongues that cannot be ignored. I finish my business, set a pot of coffee to brew, strip and enter the standing coffin of our shower.

I shiver instinctively and curse the experience. A sponge drips cold, punctuating drops on me throughout the ordeal and I curse once more. Then I remember to be strong, and that there are far worse things to endure than a change of temperature and I feel courageous. This is a recent habit I've adopted for this space that has proven effective to combat my depression's negative voice. I wash myself thoroughly in the cramped space. I turn off the water and brace for the cold.

Once dry, I putz about our bedroom while Emily sleeps to gather my clothing. We have a moment where she looks at me and asks "Are you ok?" and I smile and say I'm fine and wonder what on earth about my face in that moment prompted her to ask. She returns to sleep and I check back in with her occasionally to see if she is watching me while I dress.

In the kitchen I bumble about, gathering my things for the day: My lunch (leftovers from the previous two nights,) my breakfast (A bagel. The cream cheese is uncharacteristically hard and I end up placing rectangular chunks around the rim half-assedly) and my coffee (In my speed, I nearly pour it in a normal mug. This mistake makes me wish I had the time to sit and read a bit before work, to not feel so rushed these mornings. I'm reminded of the sweet wealth of time on weekends and I mourn a bit.)

Once swaddled and packed, I kiss Emily goodbye from the bed, as is the custom, and wish her a good day. She once more returns to sleep and I head down our narrow staircase. At the bottom, while locking the door, I am surprised by the new supervisor of the Jewish Community center milling about the space. She is grotesquely thin and her hair bursts from her head like an unkempt hedge. She tries to carry on a conversation with me and I mumble something reciprocal back and hurry on my way. I worry about the interaction all the way to the bus stop and hope I have not given the wrong impression. These sort of sudden social interactions always catch me off guard. I find I have to constantly prepare myself to speak with people otherwise I'm caught in a curt panic spiral.

I just barely catch the train and get my regular spot standing against the window between doorways. I immediately set up shop, setting my bag between my legs and positioning my coffee in my right hand and my book in my left. I would prefer to read on my phone because the pages aren't so awkward to turn.

The train fills up around my as I dive into The Selected Stories of Lydia Davis. I read a compelling murder story told as a beginner's lesson in French. I find it hard to read with the distractions of my mind and the train. A woman shoehorns herself next to me and I wonder if I look like someone who can be shoehorned. Instead of shirking myself thinner, I hold my stance and our shoulders press firmly against each other for the rest of the trip.

My train transfers from above ground to below. I hate this part because it means only two more stops unto I have to get off. I wish I could sit and read on the train forever, running back and forth across the same line while people eddy about me in their hurry and discomfort. I long to be in constant motion. Arriving is the worst.

I get off at my stop and already I am irritated with people. I rush and weave and mutter aggressions at folks walking too slow or going through the wrong turnstile. I dislike this person I've become, but in town, it's the only person I can be, thanks to Darwinian forces. If I do not fight, I will be trampled. It is the hard, prickly culture of the cold and the many. I blow by a woman stopping to light a cigarette. I think foul things at a man foolishly running across a busy intersection. What an idiot.

I bustle down the sidewalk, following my back alley route to the Prudential and see the road is littered with all the confections of construction. Overweight dirty men in brilliant tennis ball vests mill about gaping wounds in the streets. One eats spaghetti out of a Tupperware container while standing in the crook of an open truck door. Many watch with their hard, white hats and wait for nothing in particular. I'm reminded of the time I was a painter in Montana and the nature of that waiting, of being this thing that dirtied his hands on his knees and muscled and configured. I think about going to trade school and becoming a plumber. I think about platelets and scabs.

Tiny specks of snow flit about in my vision like errant flies and I cringe. No more please. But then another feeling bubbles out. That pre-storm anticipation of a child. Could this be the big one that blankets everything? Despite all the trouble this past winter has caused, I can't help contain that feeling of excitement. Such are these transition times, when the seasons meld. I remember my comfort in rain and snow and realize it goes back to the movement of the train, of a world in constant motion. That is my home, not the stoic horrible chair I've charging towards across the street.

Once in the Sheridan Hotel entrance, I take the escalator two steps at a time. People are always milling about in this conference space, talking margins and presentation material and gossip. Their smiles make me sour and I think of their comfort, their sense of simply joy. A man limps by with a suitcase. He's black and I recall that most of the time when I see someone limping on the street they are black. Is this a bias from Baltimore? Or something my monkey brain has permanently tied together and can't be unhinged? As if to respond, another black man in a button-up shirt walks by, unhindered. I become embarrassed with my thoughts and begin to take in each person walking by:

A man with a shuffling gait with a coffee in hand. His sandals and socks give me the sense he's as comfortable as if he was in his living room. A woman in a hat thunders by, her attire anachronistic to her face. Another woman hobbles on, bowed legs, as if on stilts or having just sat on a cactus. I assume it's her shoes and laugh privately at the absurdity of heels.

I pull my ID badge from my wallet with my teeth because my hands are full and present it to the security guard before heading to my elevator. I enter with another person who just missed an elevator. I stand with them and silence and stare at the glowing red circle that marks my floor. I exit when it turns off the elevator stops. I contemplate the floor of our hallway. It resembles a poorly formatted Excel spreadsheet. I punch in the code for our suite and breath in the sterile familiarity. The office is quiet at this time. I settle in and begin to write...as soon as I get through plugging in my ancient computer with its 2003 OS, Windows XP. Ugh.

I am interrupted in my writing by my supervisor Robin. I fumble about as I always do around her, trying to stutter out an excuse is to what I am up to. I prattle off a list of things I'm working on. As usual, I over explain and she walks off satisfied. I often am left standing at the end of these encounters, ready for action, as if a tiger could pounce into the office at any moment. Still standing, I check my e-mail and get overwhelmed with the horrible tedium of my work life. I worry I'll forget my morning in this pedantry.and redouble my efforts to write and do my job simultaneously.

This only lasts about 15 minutes before work takes precedent. I start to lose the day and my recollection gets fuzzy. I listen to podcasts while replying to e-mails and keying the payrolls in the system. This is my typical Monday. I listen to the Dead Author's podcast, something my brother recommended me, where Paul F. Tompkins pretends to be H. G. Wells interviewing other actors playing dead authors. I listen to Walt Whitman and Tennessee Williams. Both actors lean heavy into the gay aspects of their authors. The gentlemen who played Walt Whitman did a wonderful job of portraying the grand rambling aspects of Whitman's poetry. Tennessee Williams was played by Kristen Schaal and was a mess. In a good way.

At lunch I get a haircut. The last before I get married. I've never been a fan of the process, with the small talk and the tipping and the asking of "how do you do your hair?" I also can't see what's happening with my glasses off so it's often an unpleasant surprise at the end. I think about how itchy I'll be for the rest of day while the hairdresser ogles at the weather and vaults the razor cord over me once more.

She does a good job and I spend the trip back to the office seeking out reflective surfaces to look at myself and ruffling as many trimmings as possible out. I get back to the office and dive back into work, grateful my supervisor decided to take a long lunch again.

I eat my kale salad and a couple donuts from the break room (after some deliberation) and eat while I work, casually. I have a conversation with the company's CFO about Scientology on my way to make a chai tea. I drift off while I work, considering all the names attached to the numbers I'm looking at and think of their lives and what that do with their money. I consider why they ended up in the restaurant business. It's a weird relationship I have with all these people, where I know and have access to all their personal information but have only space to speculate about who they really are. I had a quick temp job a year ago where my primary duty was to digitally update all the important information for folks enlisted in an unemployment program. Too many of them got listed as deceased or lost. I got sad pretty quickly and was glad they didn't ask me back after a week's work.

Closing out the work day listening to a TED Radio Hour about Play. I feel refreshed and dive back into the writing above before it's time to go. I leave on my own, making the my path out the same way I came in. I get to the T station and stare at the crumbling architecture of the roof. I think about the city falling apart and about how I don't look up as much as I should. Three trains go by before I can get on one. Once on the line, I learn it only goes to Coolidge Corner, a good half mile from my place. I concede to this fact and squeeze between two folks in seats and start reading.

I don't get far because of a loud group of girls talking about shopping or something. I struggle with this up until the stop and slowly exit the train. Once out, I feel an ease come over me. I decided to walk home. I stop at a game store and pick something up while listening to the shop workers give advice. One guy comes out with a box on his head for some reason and he and his coworker have a laugh.

I walk home and talk to Emily on the way. Once home I get into the zen of dishes and relish in the feeling  of peace. Once Emily gets home we decide to go out to eat to talk wedding stuff and enjoy some junk food. We go to Applebee's because we had a gift card.

The walk is brisk and we talk feverishly back and forth about all sorts of topics. Emily makes a comment that it feels like "the old times," like when it was just us without any friends in Montana. It's a nice moment.

We arrive at the Applebee's and are immediately seated. Not many people are out on a Monday night. A few loners at the bar. There are TV's everywhere and the news is on. It's continual coverage of the pilot that flew the plane into the side of the Alps. It's very distracting and a blaring reminder of my own issues with mental illness. I try to ignore it as we talk and eat and try to figure out what accent our waiter has. The food isn't great, this is no surprise, but I'm floored at how poisonous the TV's are. It's almost insulting. I take note of this in my mind and make a half-promise to myself that I'll try to avoid TV's whenever I'm eating out.

I help Emily finish her beer and we walk back home. It's already gotten colder and we bundle up tight. Once home, we get ready for bed as we're both exhausted and spend time sitting and staring at our computers. Emily works diligently on wedding things. We talk about vows and try to figure out where people are staying. Emily continues to work while I read the rules to my new game and put on a familiar show. Looking back, I feel ashamed and childish that I wasn't helping out more...and I don't know what keeps me from it. Perhaps turning on the TV was the issue...I can't concentrate on more than one thing at a time.

We go to bed around midnight. I realize I didn't complete some things for my project and try not to let it get to me before drifting off to sleep.

Haiku of the Day:

The daily deluge

spews forth from the sacred top:

a prattle of nil

Today's Drawing and Today's "365" Project  (Make something with or inspired by toothpaste. To avoid making a mess and to kill birds with stones, I'm using it as my word for today.)

Flash Pan

A pigs-in-a-blanket Sunday. Fresh pressed coffee and a good book. Getting the sweet nibbles of what some time off will feel like.

Haiku of the Day and "365" Project (Make a monument to something that shouldn't have a monument. I made a Haiku monument to not caring.)

This symbolizes
the death of the final sh*t
I had left to give

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Insomniatic" from the unrelenting hum of freshly set plaster.)

Load and Fish

Unloading the headspace today...straight-up stress and brain vomit all of the interior of the living quarters.

Haiku of the Day:

Limb chills fluctuate
in the attic space that serves
as my apartment

Today's Drawing and "365" Project (Make something inspired by randomly pointing the globe. I went sophisticated and used Random.org. Got a point in the middle of the Marinas Trench. BOOM!)

TGIF

I am so happy it's Friday. I can't wait to just get some chores done at home and veg the heck out. I've got into some good reading and feeling like things are looking up. 7 more work days. Only a little more than two weeks until I'm married. Let's take a moment to zen out here.

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How did that feel? Good? I felt pretty good about how that went. Simple little periods all lined up to show distance.

If you were wondering, I am going a touch crazy. Just a touch though. Like dipping a toe in a pond. 

Haiku of the Day:

Sharp, volcanic rock

black on skin, releases

the blushing magma

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Quiescent" from MW word of the day. It means inactive or at rest.)

Today's "365" Project (If you could be anything in the world, what would you be? Make something today as if you are that thing. I always wanted to be a mad scientist. Is marrying one close enough?)
"MAD!!"

Outta Wack

Garbage day with garbage mood. One of those wrong side of the bed mornings. Out of focus. Misaligned. Everyone seems to be too slow and in my way. Also without Emily around I don't know how to eat food like a normal person...I just scrounge about picking at the leavings of past meals and shoveling massive quantities with no discipline. Not sure where that switch happens but it's like a piece of programming code goes on a loop that continues ad infinitum. It'd be fascinating if it didn't make me sick.

Haiku of the Day:

My partner's absence
illuminates the nuance
of heavy and light

Today's Drawing ( inspired by the unrelenting geometric ZEITGEIST!)

Today's "365" Project (Make something that looks like it came from the future. I forged an aural resonance transponder {ART}, designated to detect sound from a distinct time and space. In this photo I'm listening to some early Beethoven. Turns out he did play it faster than we thought!)
"Listening to the Past from the Future!"

75% Completed

If you couldn't glean from the title, I'm 75% done with the project today. Here are the stats:

Week 39

Stats:
Running Mileage: 649.68/1,000
Push-ups: 7,090/10,000
Sit-ups: 7,090/10,000
Pages Read: 6,848/10,000
Books Completed: 21/25
Words Written: 68,208/100,000

Fasts (Days without)
Internet: 78/100
TV: COMPLETE 107/100
Gaming: COMPLETE 199/100
Meat: 74/100
Junk: 76/100
Booze: 67/100

The running challenge has been shelved due to an over-exerted knee. At minimum, I'm shooting to be able to say I ran an average of 2 miles for the year (730 miles) which if the knee recovers I can easily make. Everything else is on and humming through and I'm pretty content.

Haiku of the Day:

A burning tickle

my prelude to the sneezing

lingers, then dissolves

Today's Drawing (Inspired by the word "AHHHHHH!" from a waking terror.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something with your pocket change today.)
"Cash Reflects Cash"

Ground Rules

Starting up a rough draft for the micro-economy I'll be starting when this project challenge comes to a close.
Hoping to have several containers of tokens or different colors and then both Emily and I would have our own personal pouches to keep them in while we keep score. Still figuring out what each one will be worth and whether to combine them for certain perks. Trying to keep it as simple as possible, while still providing flexibility and fun (of course!):

Fitness (Yellow):
Mileage: 3 miles = Yellow token
Push-ups: 100 = Yellow token
Try a new work-out regime: 3 Yellow tokens
Plank: 5 minutes = Yellow token

Food (Red):
Home-cooked meal = Red token
No Processed Food Day = 2 Red tokens
No Meat Day = Red token
No Sugar Day = Red token

Well-Being (Blue):
Day without internet: Blue token
Day without television: Blue token
15 minutes devoted to meditation: Blue token

Relationship (Purple):
Wash the dishes = Purple Token
Wash the bathroom = 2 Purple Tokens
Laundry = 3 Purple Tokens

I'm also going to lay out a brief idea I had for determining who goes first during a game. I'm in a rule making mood, can you tell??:

It's a small deck of cards with instructions for determining who goes first during a game. Each card would have a top section for the first game of the evening and then a bottom section for any and every subsequent game. As a note, this can also be a game on it's own that's just a series of mini-games. Game game game.

Example: The top of the card reads: Each player rolls a six sided die. The lowest number goes first. Ties re-roll until there is a clear winner.

               The bottom of the card reads: The winner of the previous game assigns everyone a number (1-6). If there are numbers leftover, the winner can choose to give the remaining numbers to herself or other players. Then the winner rolls a d-6 the resulting assigned number goes first.

I was thinking of trying to create a whole 52 card deck of fun possibilities. Here are a few more:

TOP: Play a game of Shoot! where you count to three and everyone can do three things by pointing:
Shoot another
Shoot yourself
Shoot in the air (Pass)
If you shoot another, they are out unless they shoot themselves, in which case everyone who shot them is out. You can't shoot in the air more than twice in a row.
BOTTOM: Start pointing at a person and keep your hand pointing. That person then points to someone not pointing. This goes until there is only one person not pointing and they go first.

TOP: Ladies first. If there's more than one woman, draw another card and the choosing method only applies to them. If there are no women, draw another card.
BOTTOM: Gentleman's game. If there's more than one man, draw another card and the choosing method only applies to them. If there are no men, draw another card.

TOP: If you drew this card, go first.
BOTTOM: If you drew this card, go first.

TOP: Play a game of Elimination Categories. The drawer of this card picks a category and then everyone has to name something that goes in that category. If you repeat something, or take too long to respond you're out. The next person from whomever got out picks another category. Repeat as necessary. Last person remaining goes first.
BOTTOM: Pick a number between 1 -100. The person who guesses the closes goes first. In the case of a tie, you go first.

TOP: Ask the group who is the strongest. If there is an argument about this, arm wrestle for verification. Do this until the strongest is apparent. That person goes first.
BOTTOM: Chose someone to have a staring contest with. First to blink or look away loses and the victor goes first.

Haiku of the Day:

Red-spine eyeballs pop
and swivel, frenzied under
his crusty pinched lids

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Jackanapes" from MW's word of the day. It's a monkey or a mischievous person.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something inspired by a spam e-mail you received lately. I worked off this graphic and wrote a short entry on someone stuck in a warehouse with just the items in the graphic.)

Excerpt from the dairy of Hammond Wayfair

Day 76

It's becoming harder to keep track of the days from inside the warehouse. The two clocks I have access to are set to different times so I'm not sure which is right and neither has a date setting. The bed turned out to be a wooden show model so I've been forced to sleep on the horrible green couch. The appliances all mock my plight, as they all remind me of food. I've put them all in a corner of the warehouse, with the exception of the popcorn maker, which contained 10 pre-packaged bags of popcorn kernels. I am on my final bag.

I don't know how much more solitude I can endure. One man Foosball is an exercise in futility, even if you hook up some of the handles to the hand-held and stand mixers...just no strategy. Rainbow Bunny and I are no longer on speaking terms since the incident with the ping pong paddle and despite recently getting engaged to Derrick the Polar Bear, our conversations have grown listless and dull. I long for the early days of making love beneath the plastic slide. Back when there was still cheese to cut and water to seltzer.

Nights are the worst. The old-timey lantern ran out of batteries in just 4 days and all the other lights didn't come with light bulbs. More mockery to add to my pain. The hat box I've been defecating in is nearly full.   If I make it past day 100 I may just hammer myself into oblivion. Or corkscrew. There are not many options.

With love and may everything home be up to 70% off,

Hammond Wayfair 

Self Improvement History

I'm gonna spend some space and time here musing about my micro/incentive economy that I'll be "playtesting" come the end of this current project. First off, a little history:

Since graduating school, I've been a mite obsessed with self-improvement. Losing the regimented discipline I barely managed to follow while I was in college exposed a stark fact: I did not know how to do anything. This is not an uncommon experience for anyone entering the "real world" after school, but it hit me particularly hard considering the fact I had been briefly hospitalized only a year before for profound emotional instability and spent half my senior year in a prescription drug addled haze. Add to that I had just moved to Montana with Emily, who I had only been dating for 6 months. I had no job prospects, significant debt and no direction. So, after appropriately watching the entire series of LOST, I decided to start with the basics:

FOOD - In college I had an infamous reputation for eating poorly. Eating food was a chore I had to do every so often to keep my body functional that I found no joy in participating in. I owned one pot that was used exclusively for macaroni and cheese and ramen. I also ate an unholy amount of sliced cheese and crackers. I still do the latter from time to time.

So keeping all this in mind, I decided to start figuring out how to cook. With Emily and my father's help, I managed to get a few recipes under my belt, chili and tacos being among the first. Here I discovered a few things: a.) shopping and cooking together is vital to any relationship b.) food tastes better with fresh ingredients and c.) it's a task of great short-term reward that can boost morale when long term tasks aren't going well (JOB SEARCH.)

Emily and I started branching out and went to Missoula's bustling farmer's market a few times and got a slew of new stuff to mix and match. I think it was around this time that we discovered Food Network magazine and it changed my life. I suddenly had mountains of relatively simple, high quality recipes to choose from and food became a boon rather than a bust. Unfortunately, this started cutting into another category I should probably bring up now.

HEALTH - I smoked for a time when I was in Scotland and once back in the states, I took up the horrible habit full time. This followed me into Montana and was supported by the job I eventually got as a painter's assistant. This, coupled with the new food interest and some unabashed day drinking that took place at that job as well, put me in the worst shape of my life. For the first time I gained a little paunch and found I couldn't run like I used to. So when Emily got accepted into Johns Hopkins and we set out for Baltimore, I set out to right my body and kick some habits on the way. The smoking didn't go until a year in due to the culture of my work, but I haven't had a cigarette in nearly 3 years and I plan to keep it that way. With the smoking gone I got back into running big time. We had a gym in our apartment complex and I rocked the heck out of the treadmill's there and got very good at getting into the zone despite how crushingly boring the treadmill can be. About this time I discovered Chore Wars and started to think about innovative ways to get myself and Emily to better cohabitate and foster better life practices. I tried a few different systems that didn't stick, and then made the big pledge at 26 to try the 1,000 miles that Boston disrupted. I'm sad that it looks like I won't make it again this time, but one of these years I'll get it.

Whew that was a lot and I didn't even get to the system I'd like to try out...will have to wait until tomorrow!

Haiku of the Day:

My post-runner high

flushes in a full-body swell

that shocks the system

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word...uh....yeah.)

Today's "365" Project (Make a mini golf course. This one was scary until I thought of a way to make a VERY mini one.)
"Mi Casa Course"

Columbia Shakes

A great deal of arduous page staring today, attempting to will sentiment out of the vast white plain. Did I just uncover another level to Moby Dick? God I loathed that book. What a dumb thing to read in high school. But it keeps cropping back up in conversations...worth another shot? I'll have to get through some other books before it comes down to that.

Today was chill and full of board games, which I thoroughly enjoy. I got the bug for it bad and I find myself wanting to make/play more as soon as I can. Chase that feeling.

Haiku of the Day:

Coffee all day long
gives me a thing I call the
"Columbia Shakes"

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Firebrand" from MW's word of the day.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something that goes over your hand. I repurposed the gaming glove to make claws.)
"Discount Deathstrike"

Temperament Vessel

There is a vessel somewhere in the world that is psychically linked to my temperament.  Somewhere remote, somewhere tormented by storms and drought and all the vicious forces of God. And in that space around my vessel a hunched and wrinkled lunatic with spindling limbs presides.  He is wrapped in nothing more than a degrading shawl, and his naked form flicks in and out like the determination in his eyes. Perched on the myriad winding steps, handholds and crumbling ladders, the bony man scuttles about like a spider, but with the barreling gusto of a bull in heat. He waves his arms about his head as an ape does in displays of dominance as he rails upon the shining vessel. marking the hulls with his filth, his blood, the glisten of his life's work. He screeches at the vessel with the cries of a rabbit with a mangled paw. And all about the vessel are the man's charges, his children, his delicate seedlings, tiny valves and nozzles for him to twist and wrench and fiddle. He is in constant motion about the vessel attending these things and attending his torment and attending his blind, unsleeping impulse, never knowing where it leads or what it affects. He sees not what he has become in his tasking, but believes himself a steamboat captain or a space explorer or an adept lover. He swims in a dangerous tank of his own poor head fluid, sloshing about bubbling whims and mashing walls. He smacks his lips like lovely death and considers nothing but the vessel and its unending, its triumph. All murky, all clouds and heavy vapor his world plods on in eternal dusk and the taste is unbearable.

Such is the vessel that holds the temperament.

Haiku of the Day:

Oh, skittering youth

teeming underneath like mice

seeking a shelter

Today's Drawing (inspiring by the word "Organ" from the vagus nerve.)

Today's "365" Project (Make a door where there typically isn't one. Had some fun with this one!)
"Door above door"

Dead Mirror Eyes

Had a wonderful Friday of a low work load and a night drinking with friends.

Haiku of the Day:

The first day of spring
with as much day as there's night
and it f*cking snows

Today's Drawing (Inspired by dead mirror eyes)

Today's "365" Project (Make something out of a can. I made a fake fire pit!)
"Burning that 13th"

What's He Building in There?

If it wasn't clear by now, I like writing about feelings. As someone who's been in a psychologist's chair since the age of 10, I find it to be the style I slip into most easily. Pair that with a love of speech and dialogue, you get the emotional, colloquial mess you see before you. I've never been one for analytic writing and I doubt you could find a piece of text I wrote in either high school or college that didn't stink of a personal touch, gross subjection and ALWAYS hyperbole. What can I say? As much as I hate to associate with it, I'm a drama kid. I didn't feel alive unless I've got my hands in the sticky, electric guts of the sympathetic body.

******

And there she blows: the turn. The mood shifts and the throat gets harsh and bitter. Teeth long to grind on acorns and foil and fiberglass shards.

Haiku of the Day:

Droplets of hot wax
pepper the white counter-top
hard, blue, and fuzzy

Today's Drawing (inspired by a phone ring and a headache.)

Today's "365" Project (Do something with ice. I made a hand!)
"No Pointer"

Winding

Week 38

Stats:
Running Mileage: 636.76/1,000
Push-ups: 6,940/10,000
Sit-ups: 6,940/10,000
Pages Read: 6,808/10,000
Books Completed: 21/25
Words Written: 64,033/100,000

Fasts (Days without)
Internet: 75/100
TV: COMPLETE 103/100
Gaming: COMPLETE 197/100
Meat: 70/100
Junk: 72/100
Booze: 66/100

So here's the deal: I'm changing my running goal. With my current knee injury I'm not going to be able to finish it in the time allotted, so instead I'll just be keeping a "running" tally of mileage until I get to 1000 and we'll see where it lands me. My hope is to make it there by 400 days in, or at the very latest September. I mourn the passing of this goal, as it is the second year I've tried it, but I think it is for the best that I not kill myself attempting to get it now.

I have spoken on this before but it bears repeating: The fasts are not the best method for curbing my poor behaviors. There's an issue of "threshold" that I continue to run into in my day-to-day, where once I engage in a behavior that I meant to be fasting, I binge it relentlessly. This has worsened in the case of television, internet time, and junk food, (but especially internet...those bastards have me by the easily-distracted balls.)
The fast system proved the most effective with my habits with video games, eating meat and drinking. I think I'll continue to keep track of the meat and booze, stop with the video games because it's a habit I've deftly broken, and employ some new methods in regards to television, junk food and the dreaded net. Allow me to muse on the subjects now:

JUNK FOOD: First off, this one has been nebulous since the beginning and the loose definition is part of the problem. Processed goods and restaurant items are mostly what I've set the basis on, so it goes back to a "point of origin" criteria. For instance, cinnamon buns are considered junk food by most people, but if I made the cinnamon buns FROM SCRATCH, than they would not qualify under the definitions. It's nearly always been about (a) cutting out the sweets, primarily the gummi sugar bombs I gorge myself on (b) cutting out the chips and highly processed meats and snacks and (c) curbing consumption of fast food/restaurant items. The ideal is not the cleave them out entirely, but to encourage an environment of moderation. My first inkling is to create a mini economy for myself, where I get credits for cooking in at home that I can then spend on sugary snacks, chips or restaurant items. This method would involve some heavy enforcement by Emily which is one reason if might be difficult to execute. I'm tempted to go so far as to get a literal lock-box that only she has the key to, so I have to go through the process of asking and then removing the junk item before eating it. This doesn't cover the restaurant bit, but could do wonders for the binge issue I have with the horrible snacky foods.  Perhaps there's something to this mini-economy thing...I tried it in the past while we were in Baltimore and it only ever sorta worked. Now that I have a bit more disposable income I may try to construct a vessel to hold unique beads or stones that could work as currency...maybe count up all the spent ones at the end of the month and deposit the $1 equivalent into savings? Would have to put more serious thought into how the whole economy would function as a whole.

TV/INTERNET: These both go together because they involve screens and not doing shit for extended periods of time. They also both are heavily re-enforced by social pressures in my immediate vicinity, (yes Emily is a big factor here.)

I listened to a Freakonomics Radio yesterday that talked about resolutions, specially about something that was referred to as "Temptation Bundling" which puts tasks you enjoy with tasks that you should do but are unpleasant. I'm planning on trying to employ something with Emily with TV where we have to do some minor exercise before watching an episode of a favorite show. Or perhaps share a specific story about our day? I'm not sure...there's got to be a way to break up the binge mentality that takes over and cuts into quality time and sleep.

The internet is a subtler monster, but horrible nonetheless. Often I find myself drifting on the web when I'm faced with the task of writing/drawing/projecting and feel the need to clear my mind a bit. I think the two-tiered approach for this is to 1) aggressively research addition to my chrome that limit certain "gateway" sites and 2) find more appropriate "quieting" activities to salve the ADHD novelty cravings that keep me on sites for hours on end.

WRITING: An average of 275 words a day is pretty steep for me, with additional creative powers getting funneled into drawing and doing the "projects" which I unfortunately have grown to resent. Noah Scalin put together a pretty good book of inspirations, but I'm so done with all the crafty bullshit he keeps pushing. Not to mention some of the tasks could only be done by spending an hour or more on and I JUST DON'T HAVE THE TIME! And the writing is something I'd like to keep polishing and making it easier to do. I'm not an organized writer and most of my ideas are taxingly incoherent, but this hasn't been about clarity. It's about demystifying and breaking down the "perfection" and piecing together some little nuggets I can actually do something with. It's about showing up and trying, god damnit. I'm sick of only striking when the creative fire is hot, waiting for my mind to get the lightning strike.

Perhaps the key is creating a space in our home that is devoted only to writing and/or project related activities. Could be worth a shot.


Stream, Brook, Deluge:

I've been riding in a massive tidal wave, sick and tumbling,
traumatized by the whims of celestial forces
in a relentless eddy of murky, choking, fluid.
And then in a single breath,
a fleeting bubble of calm
I right my body
and see the sky and the sea
in their whole and infinite state
and see myself as the fleck,
the morsel on the terrible jaw
of a gargantuan beast.
But instead of shuddering
or plunging into bleak despair
my heart settles
and for the first moment
since the storm begin
I feel sure and level.
And then like dusk,
the storm falls
its massive writhing bulk
plucking my frame
from the clear
to steel oblivion.

Haiku of the Day:

Swapping wedding songs
over wine, beer and veggies
roasted over oil

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Controvertible" from MW's word of the day. It means capable of being disputed or opposed by reason.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something with cardboard. I made a dice tower and it's super great. NERD!)
"Duct Dice Tower"

Drinking Day

If there weren't enough excuses to drink: Here's a whole day devoted to just that!! Had some pints in a garishly IRISH pub in Boston that I also happen to do payroll for. Enjoyed a late night re-watching some House while Emily worked on a science poster for a conference she's going to next week. We've started this habit of watching show's with subtitles and I have to say, I can't go back to doing it any other way. Yes it can be distracting and often times it ruins an actor's comedic timing, but you catch so much more reading and hearing than from just hearing.

Haiku of the Day:

Rain's soft pattering

on the grey hallway skylight

cools the fever stream

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Inveigle" from MW's word of the day. It means to entice with wiles, ingenuity or flattery.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something out of Legos. I used a kit from an earlier post and created another in my series of impossible vehicles!)
"Headstrong Nowing"

Behind Land

Phew. What a wild time. I'm now woefully behind on nearly all of my challenge items, in addition to some pretty big deficits in posted material...but time goes on and I will persevere. Seriously considering making the running challenge to 900 miles due to my bum knee and all the terrible weather. I think I'll just see what I can manage.

On a similar note, I have only 100 days left on this sucker. I'm not going to be too sad to see it go. It's been very tough to have this troll scratching at the back of my head everyday for as long as I have. My creative fatigue bleeds long and hard into all the spaces. And these prompts are getting silly and time consuming: Make a mini-golf hole. Really. A friggin' mini-golf hole? Who has time for this?!? I cannot wait to have some days off here soon.

CATCH UP CATCH UP CATCH UP!

Shut-up dumb voices. Leave me alone...don't you have something better to do? Of course not, you exist only to torment. How wonderful.

Haiku of the Day:

Nothing beats the feel
of the sun on your neck while
you're treading water

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Radiate" from a backward notion.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something with sand. We have a guest assist by the lovely Emily Kuehn with her zen garden!)
"Centering"

Post-Bachelor Party

Woke up with no idea what happened last night. Sick all day and on the plane. All was darkness and piss and vinegar. Ugg. If only I could...Blah.

Good Party though. Big thanks to Wales and the old housemates, my father and brother Ben for making it possible. Wooo!

Haiku of the Day:

Well it's official

Boston had the snowiest 

winter on record

Today's Drawing and "365" Project (Remake a famous piece of art.)
"The Screamish"

Bachelor Party

Had a Bachelor Party today. A great deal of waiting until 4 and then a chaotic whirlwind of friends, limos and alcohol alcohol alcohol. All was flirtation with life and death and my mind lost it in the booze miasma.

Haiku of the Day:

Bachelor Party
carousing about the town
black-out drunk by eight

Today's Drawing and "365" Project (Make a venn diagram. I did. It's super lame!)
"Patterns Together!"

Pre-Bachelor!

Traveling to Michigan today for a bachelor party and a wedding shop talk. Got up at the miserable hour of 4 without much trouble and took an Uber to Logan. Excited for the day!

Haiku of the Day:
Crimson bands waver
between the deep black of sleep
and the gold of dawn

Today's Drawing and "365" Project (Start something and then have someone finish it. I had my brother Ben and buddy Wales help me draw a dude on a sectioned off piece of paper.)
"Professor ClubFoot!"

Scars n' Cars

Scars I have:

-1 cm line on thumb above the second knuckle: Obtained cutting watermelon at a high-school graduation party

-1 inch long line to the right of belly button: Obtained "sword-fighting" with umbrellas with Wales Christian during a fight call.

-1 cm in diameter circle in between ribs on left side: Origin unknown. Best guess is chicken pox scar.

-1 inch "scar bundle" on left elbow: Obtained from burning on radiator while sleeping in Scotland.

-1 inch "scar bundle" on right elbow: Obtained at a young age while rollerblading. Weirdly enough, I was wearing elbow pads at the time, but they slipped up to my forearm when I bent my arms. A pretty egregious design oversight.

-1 cm crescent moon recess in right upper eyelid: Obtained from a delightfully heinous sty that was so painful I was bedridden for a week while we vacationed in New Orleans in 2013. To this day, no eyelashes grow in it's place.

When I started this list I thought it would be significant, but I quickly realized I am incredibly lucky that in my 27 years, these are the most dubious marks my body has to show for them.

Haiku of the Day:

Lost in the timeline
bullet points bubble outward
to a space beyond

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Careen" from looking up random verbs online.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something cute into something that isn't. I did a secret transformation to a gift a co-worker gave me the other day.)
"SashiMYGOD!!"

Marriage in a Month

-I have this impulse to talk about blood every time I see a blank page. Blood is the go to word I ignore 90% of the time. It is basic and universal and makes me shudder. I love the color of blood. I love that it can be both watery and sticky and is full of LIVING cells that fight and carry oxygen and clot. I cannot escape the blood impulse. And the more I push back, the more it shouts, eclipsing all else in its girth, it's importance. Such insistence blood has to be at the front of my brain, at the tip of my tongue. A mesh network of pulsing tubes just under the skin. Ewwwwwwwww. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it Blood. I'm done with you. Leave me be!

-*whispering back from the substance of all of me* "Never."

-Dick.

Week 37!

Stats:
Running Mileage: 633.79/1,000
Push-ups: 6,760/10,000
Sit-ups: 6,760/10,000
Pages Read: 6,586/10,000
Books Completed: 20/25
Words Written: 62,562/100,000

Fasts (Days without)
Internet: 71/100
TV: COMPLETE 100/100
Gaming: COMPLETE 191/100
Meat: 70/100
Junk: 70/100
Booze: 65/100

I'm at a weird point in this where I can see the finish line, but it's still REALLY far away so I don't feel the full pressure of the last mile yet. I think I'll be in freak-out mode once May rolls around and I'm looking at some hard sprints in fasts, writing, running and reading. We'll see. My running is the one I'm the most concerned about now, as it is my largest goal, my most time consuming goal and the one I care about the most. And then this knee issue bungled its way in (my fault) to put the fear in me. These updates could end up being a slow decent into accepting that my goal will not be met. But that still has yet to be seen. Perhaps a revision should be put into place? No. It hasn't come to that yet.

Made the TV goal this week!!

Writing has become my secondary concern, as one could probably tell from the more lengthy entries I've been posting. It's the same limitation I run into with running: time and the constraints of the mortal form. Some days I am just not in the mood to write at all. More than half of the time I abhor every sentence as it comes out. I get afraid of my terrible spelling, of how I often replace "to" with "the" and a variety of editing mistakes I don't have time to review. And as with the drawing, I get sick of creating the same stuff. My hard-core addiction to novelty shines bright on these endeavors and where that addiction is a significant driver to make new and interesting stuff, it just as often holds me back from honing into a consistent theme or area of expertise. I was hoping that forcing my hand into writing and drawing everyday I would discover a constant voice that has some meat to it. But nearly the opposite seems to have happened. My desire to make new and different has shifted to overdrive and it's consuming the process. Or perhaps i'm still too deep in the trenches to see the patterns and where I should focus my energies. This is the trouble of making this in the void. No feedback.

Haiku of the Day:
Wash the day troubles
away with a nice warm glass
of low grade sake

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Lucrative" from MW's word of the day. Profitable.)

Today's "365" Project (Make a Chess board)
"Kitchen Floor Showdown"

Flits of Grandure

Snippets

-What needs to be said? There could be something spoken here. Bits of black and white, a light touch on a ragged cheek. Something sacred dislodged and dangling by vine and tendon.

-Sleepless hospital nights - No music - poisonous mulling - general ache and stomach discomforts - there's something I must be doing - Emily crying out for me from a nightmare and I've got the ear-buds in - Oblivious - Obsession over the beating of the heart - The chest pains roil and swell like sound in dreams -

-Shuddering, shallow breaths as I read about architecture. I have yet to find an author that can accurately transport me to a building. Perhaps it is my impatience, or a failure of imagination, but I rarely find common ground in descriptions of sconces and trim and windowpanes. I get the reader's glaze, the glossy teenage eyes that seek out open sky.

-To begin the day outside of the fog, to see with bright, clear eyes the world before the Vaseline sheen globs back onto the eyeglass is the drive of my passion. I am a cloudy soul with spotlets of bright sun dabbling the fields at midday. The lust for freedom from the haze, for some liberation front to bust the linger with heat and pressure belches out my fuzzy maw in droves.

Haiku of the Day:
Tiny pains on skin
irk and fetter my focus
to zero percent

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Panjandrum" from MW's word of the day. It's a powerful personage or a pretentious person based off a non-sense word created by an English playwright in 1755.)

Today's "365" Project (Carve out a piece of fruit or vegetable.)
"Gourdy Devious"

Musings for 28

A few milestones creeping up the works here: A month until marriage, 100 days left of the blog, my one year anniversary at my work. All dredging up the ol' reflecting glass and giving me pause to get some perspective.

I've been pretty sad lately, and it has to do with many things, the primary sources being weather, creative drudgery, tough decisions and isolation. The last one is subtle but I am alone a great deal. My office is heavily sanctioned off and I only socialize with a few of my coworkers. As anyone who travels in the city knows: the more people you encounter in your commute, the less you see them as "people" because brains weren't meant to handle so many strange new faces, (family groups, hunter gatherer crap.) And to top it off, and not that I blame her because I totally understand, Emily works pretty late hours so when I get home at the end of my day I typically won't see anyone until she gets in a couple hours later. I think much of it stems from not living close to people we know...it takes significant planning to get anywhere and if you're down in the dumps, putting in the effort is twice as hard.

But going back to the reflecting glass thing, I'm considering making some revisions to my challenge for next year. And yes, I do think I will keep this up for another year, just in a different capacity. Here's some musings:

-Take up meditation: I did it in school for a bit, and with how busy I get and how much I need to surround myself with stimuli, this would be a massive boon on my health. I think I can even sucker Emily into it. I like the idea of forcing myself to slow down and concentrate on concentrating on nothing. It's the opposite of what I'm doing currently.

-Curfews instead of Fasts: Though I may still keep track of what I consume, I'll not set goals for it. I will, however, begin to stop the poorer habits I have around sleep and screens and (sometimes) food. No screens after 11 seems pretty reasonable to me. Not all the time, but at least during the week. And one "early" bedtime a week (before 11.) Gotta get that sleep going.

-Post only one creative thing here for everyday...but not on the day. So basically 365 posts over the course of the year with either a drawing or a poem or weird rambling but they don't have to be done each day. This is sort-of what has happened to this project now, because as much as I like to believe I am an infinite font of creation, it ebbs and flows and can only perform at gun point so many times.

-Exercise 5 times a week Simple. Mix it up. Run. Bike. Hike. Swim. Lift. Squat. But only 5 workout days. Two of those are for resting. And this rule is unflinching. I need to learn to stop pushing myself so hard. Getting older is about learning your limits and I still believe I don't have any. Gotta learn to be human sometime, might as well start now.

Anyway, it's a start.

Haiku of the Day:

Apologetics:

Hacking design flaws with a

positive outlook

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Fracture" from seven years bad luck.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something that transports you across a room. I went the less literal route and used my Makey Makey to "transport" my ability to play Pokemon on my computer across the room. It was NOT intuative but cool as shit.)
"Hand Hack"

Guilt and Rheum

Conscience Stream. Let's see where it goes.

I have a guilt problem. I feel guilty for pretty much everything in my life. Wrestling with responsibility and control. What can I do? What could I have done differently? The simulation machine churns them out in a assembly line of what if's. I strive to be the optimum being and everyday I fall short of it and it happens everyday, the blame goes to me. Perhaps I find it easier to blame myself, as I am one the the things I am certain I have control over. I think the key to breaking that is realizing I have no control over the Mike in the past, so I shouldn't feel bad for his transgressions. This would be easy to employ if it wasn't for OTHER PEOPLE. Other people are what gum up the works, with their expectations and antiquated views on responsibility and justice. I feel the pressure from them at every angle, to the point where my own beliefs get lost in a sea of conflicting ideals. I have no real defense against this and it's a constant struggle. What I'm looking for is the sense of supreme forgiveness, the wiping away of the score, of the sins. This is the allure of Christ. This is the freedom of the gospel. A sense that history means nothing in the light of the now. Not to say we forget our history, but to inspect it and distance ourselves from the emotional weight of it.  But this mindset is so difficult to keep constant with the glut of score keeping and high negativity. Blech.

So...guilt and Christ huh? What a lovely incoherent mess. This is what I live for, the ugly mucking through on stumbley legs with a piercing headache.

Haiku of the Day:

Floating on a sea

of my own pestilent rheum

reeks of childhood

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Frazzled" from the blown fuse in the basement.)

Today's "365" Project (Make a pair of shoes. That don't have to be functional. I took some cardboard and made long foot character shoes.)
"Ski Feet"

Saucy Stomachs

Some days I waked reduced, as if, in sleep through a process of time and heat, my fluid parts have been boiled out of me. The remaining sauce, thick with the weight of bubbling departure, sticks cloyingly to any solid morsels, as a child clings to a mother in a busy shop. I coat the morsels, drown them in the honey of my substance. It's the grief for my lost water that drives me to envelop. I am a widow to vapor and all salt in weeping.

Haiku of the Day:

Drying fingertips

crack with red and white fissures

that wail like infants

Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Dyspepsia" from MW's word of the day. It means poorly digested or in bad taste.)

Today's "365" Project (Make something natural look like something unnatural.)
"Right Angles"