From a High of Fifty

We are coming to you live from beautiful sunny Portland, Oregon.
So far we have had three Kraft beers, two cups of coffee, one black pepper sausage, and a lot of sweet dreams.
They keep their soy milk on the counter here in sunny Portland.
They also name their houses here in sunny Portland.
Things like castle
or compound
or silk


I'm sitting in a wing backed chair in front of an open coffee shop door wondering if I should read some more of my book or meet my brother at the Chinese dumpling buffet.
I bet if I picked up that banjo everything would suddenly make sense.
I was looking forward to this span of six days with my life raft and my siblings and our friends.
I look to the easy times.
They look great.
Amazing shoes tied to cute aprons held upright in adorable wooden pins.

Brunch anyone?

I'm a writer.


That's great,
Skin and Gillian Welch

For those of you keeping score:

I'm twelve hours away from finished.
I splurged on some vitamin D serum for my face and it is working miracles.
I went to central Ohio this weekend for an angel food check in.
She's sad but good.
She's angel food underneath.
(I miss my mom too.)
And when it gets like this, our second floor windows speak to us. They mew secret window languages.


And if I just keep breathing that old in and out ribbon of light I'm pretty sure I can crank these final pages out by 5pm.

But, the most important thing is looking right up at you behind soft bangs
from zebra print onesies.


Skin & Footnotes

Grand Daddy of Chicago Holiday Entertainment.

The jury is still out on this whole revision thing.
So open.
So early.
Like when the automatic doors to the hospital on Winnemac slide wide open with a gust of hot air and an eye full of pastel panels not because you are visiting a loved one but because you are walking to the Clark bus stop and are cold and thus hugging the Wall.
It's all peripheral.
It's all blind spots and ear buds.
The nice man at the front desk doesn't seem to mind.
He's busy.

Your headaches have shifted to the left side of your face.
But, this time it's not so much an ache as it is a fuzz.
You have fuzz head.
Happens to everyone you're sure.
Prefer obstructions.
You'd rather obstruct than revise.
If you're in front of an audience that is.
My revisions are private.
I'm a goat.
Great.
Keep going with that.
Put your writing in a box and stack it in the crawl space over the garage.
Next to the water damage and the twin bed.

~Gas & Light

Back From Jersey

Safe.

Went to Jersey to the house on the waves.
Fake mom purchased real dinner from real ladies who work in real shops.
They'll cater your thanksgiving real nice.
It's off season of course.
No problem honey.
Sure is breezy on the dock.
The good doctor is now one hundred and one
he has a chair and a piece of pie all day each day behind just the biggest windows you ever did see.
Rejoice rejoice fresh towels red skies.




It's advent in Chicago.




There was a baby in church today eight
days old.
They brought her up and blessed her head.




Life raft turned 32 years
last night.
Mulled wine and brilliant conversations.




I registered for a two week summer class in London with professor haven't worked with yet.





It's advent in Chicago.




Means good luck,
Skin & Blue Grass

Under Energy Saving Lights Next to Ceramic Bowls of Kale

Wake wired and early to watch a foreign film under a pink blanket from Mexico.
Clean the kitchen.
Shower.
Stare at the wall for a while.
Watch the sun take spaghetti stripes over fuzzy legs and stiff curtains.

Looks like nothing
yes
but
is actually how to successfully false start
every essay.

Meet smiley at Perfect Cup.
Sit on hands and talk circles.
Looks like nothing
sure
but
actually is step two of how to draft
every essay.

The big ones are coming up quick.

We're handling it extremely well.

Can naturally deduce that no one will die. Nobody dies from this.

Walk to the market for a slab of fresh fish and a bag of kale.

Tis the season of dark colored produce and plastic handles round freezing fingers.






Happy thirty pages double spaced everyone,
Skin and Butter

Freezing Light.

1) Apparently I'm incapable of even remembering I ever started a blog during the span of dead time that connects week five to week fifteen of a semester.

2) Evidently there's only one more semester left of course work.

3) Clearly I've started on a thesis.

4) Strangely I'll be a master of fine arts in one year and three weeks.

5) Not that strange. Swing a dead cat and everybody has an MFA.

6) But, kind of cool.

7.1) I wont have to wonder.

7.2) Anymore.

8) Terminal degree.






















~And then you get in a jeep with your friend Bird and drive through the night to a service. Angel Food lost her mother suddenly and we just had to go. We just had to. Just had to give her a big buck eye hug. It was ten thirty in the morning and the light was pouring. And the grace was amazing. And the eyes were red but the arms were out. Up and out. Every day she teaches me how to be strong and good.










Lucky Every Day,
Skin & Skin

Just Pretend You Have an Agressive Brain Tumor.

1) Seriously. Say to yourself, it's inoperable. There's nothing anyone can do. Say it. It will help you to stay in the moment. It will keep you from crying all the time. It will feel like a release. It will feel like a fuck it, I'm dying. Might as well just do this. Just do this. Just stay right here and be here. For me anyway. That's how I feel about pretend brain tumors. I'm not the sell all your possessions and live on the sand for the next six months type. I'm a sandwich on a couch in a church with a warm cat type.

2) Poetry is dead.

3) You're not going to get anywhere turning in these long prose poems to your fiction workshops. There's nothing really to critique. Class will end a half hour early and you'll cry.

4) You're just going to have to write a novel. Or something. A collection of short stories?

5) It shouldn't be so excruciating to write in a different genre. If you're studying writing you're studying all writing.

6) I got Tylenol 3 and muscle relaxers for my headaches.

7) Professor fantastic writes in lots of different kinds of forms. She does it. She's nurturing. She mentors. She's not mean. She believes in second chances. Right? Write.

8) Do not mix with alcohol.

~Skin & Toast