1. 10. 2018

My carpal tunnel surgery pre-op appointment has been pushed back until the last week of January. I can’t use my hands to do much wearing the massive braces I’m supposed to wear, day and night. Between typing, drawing, doing the dishes, playing guitar, or doing the most simple of things, these clunky braces are obnoxious and awkward. I’m to the point of losing grip while trying to do simple things like wash dishes or brush my teeth.

I decided to focus less this year on reading X number of books as my goal, and both on reading regularly and creating one piece of art that I am proud of each month. Miraculously, drawing doesn’t hurt my hands nearly as much since I can have a very relaxed grasp on my pencil/pen.

The #metoo & #TimesUp movements are vital but also draining to witness as I think about trauma, relive it daily out of my control, and can’t get relief from the looming reality that women are not safe.

A 17-year-old boy was shot in the head on the street that I grew up on a night or two ago. Whenever I consider Memphis’s cheap real estate when I’m thinking about where I’d like to plant roots, things like this rise to the surface.

I would never want to raise my kids in Madison because of the lack of diversity. Never in Austin because it’s too damn hot in Texas. Rachel and I have thrown Chicago into the air as an idea as a “plan F” of sorts if she doesn’t get funded and find her place in a grad school this upcoming fall.

…and then there’s this hamster on a wheel in my head that keeps spinning with, “Where the hell will you be living in 5 years? Will you be ready to have kids yet in 5 years? How will CAH affect your reproductive health as you age? Is anyone ever going to consider researching that? Should I really have kids with my genetic background anyways? Are you ready to be married again? Will you ever find an appropriate therapist that specialized in trauma therapy that your insurance covers? What the hell are you going to do when you turn 26 and get booted off of your parents’ insurance? Can we really move everything in this apartment to Canada? Does your family understand why you can’t live in Tennessee ever again?”

All of those thoughts came at work when things finally calmed down for about 8 minutes this evening. I have so many customers and associates telling me that I have a calming presence and voice. Perhaps the secret to appearing calm is having chaotic thoughts as your 24/7 norm.



Jan 3, 2017

Pups are snoring, girlfriend is killing dragons on Skyrim, and I am finally updating this website.

It’s been one divorce, one honorable discharge, and four apartments since this blog has been active. I’m working on rebuilding a portfolio and getting back into the groove of making art a habit. I’m intending to apply to art education programs–once Rachel lands a funded masters program or until we decide where to live next.

I’m getting a surgery scheduled very soon and wondering how I’ll fare trying to do anything without my hands for a little bit. I think I’ll grapple a charcoal stick with my toes fairly well. Tarsal tunnel?

I rang in 2018 in a glittery cobalt bath after having had just enough champagne to make everything seem delightful and warm. In 2018, I hope to focus on treasuring time with the people I love, on the community,  and on giving our dogs a full life despite being apartment loaves. Focusing on creating more than I consume and remembering to take my medications consistently. It sounded simplistic at the time, but I’ve now realized that I have a lot to do with what could be my last 7 or 8 months in Austin.


Ran out of dog food and make them an elaborate fried rice dish. This is what happens when you’re out of school for too long.