The way I remember the German shepherd that my family had when I was that age is “warm soft” and reaching up above my head to put my hand into fur. In other words, the memory I have, to correspond with my current height, would make for a seven-foot-high (or more) dog.

My aunt has had her quality of life vastly improved thanks to a Chinese herbalist (I don’t know how to spell his name, but interestingly it is pronounced “woo.”) And also acupuncture. She had terrible intestinal issues in the past.

Gaaah, yes the “traffic light bend and twist!” I swear I didn’t have to do it in California or Oregon, but maybe I’m overly nostalgic. Here in Michigan? Giant trucks and SUVs and about half the traffic lights are out of view if I’m first in line. (If I’m not, I probably can’t see past who is.)

…even lived there for a time. We almost had an argument about it but I decided it was too stressful and probably stemmed from not wanting to change how she thought of our relative, whom she had met.
But, the awfulness hadn’t been clear to her even as she lived there, which is a disturbing thought.

I was shocked that my mother didn’t know that he was not a good leader. She was born in the US but her grandparents came from Spain and her father’s favorite cousin knew Franco enough to take him to a favorite fishing spot in Asturias. She and her parents traveled around Spain in the 60s and she…

It’s amazing when an SUV behind me (2005 Mini Cooper) with its array of mega lights pulls up to just the right distance to hit all my mirrors — rear view and both sides — and pings off the chrome detailing on my dash, too.

It might be. I got a random reply to an old post tonight and it was the super complimentary tone that made me think “bot account” and “AI experiment” rather than “confused person using shoddy translation software.”

I love to accidentally sit on gum while wearing my best.

Or as Delilah said, an act of rebellion.

At a time when we collectively need creativity the most — and stories in particular, with their emotions and ideas, their takes on what it means to exist — it is becoming the hardest to do.

“Art harder, motherfuckers.”
(Is that a Chuck Wendig quote? I feel like it is.)

Creativity as resistance.

I’m looking at a tax job (hello, triggers for several anxieties/burnouts I’m trying to speedrun through in therapy) because publishing? Art? Crafts? Animation? Etsy & Patreon are like posting into a void; job ads are all about AI; my self-pub is expenses, not profit.

Like so many of us, I am having A Time™️. Everything in my life, from the external to the internal, changed when my mother died—taking with her my main income for the past 20 years. I liken the experience to returning to an ice skating rink at age 50 vs 25, when I never really knew how, anyway.

At a time when we collectively need creativity the most — and stories in particular, with their emotions and ideas, their takes on what it means to exist — it is becoming the hardest to do.

“Art harder, motherfuckers.”
(Is that a Chuck Wendig quote? I feel like it is.)

Creativity as resistance.

I’m looking at a tax job (hello, triggers for several anxieties/burnouts I’m trying to speedrun through in therapy) because publishing? Art? Crafts? Animation? Etsy & Patreon are like posting into a void; job ads are all about AI; my self-pub is expenses, not profit.

Like so many of us, I am having A Time™️. Everything in my life, from the external to the internal, changed when my mother died—taking with her my main income for the past 20 years. I liken the experience to returning to an ice skating rink at age 50 vs 25, when I never really knew how, anyway.