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E x p l o d i n g P l a s t i c E i s t e d d f o d d

Dec. 9th, 2014

12:29 pm - Weeekend

It was a long and lonely weekend. With Kaija away the spine drops out of my day, and I feel listless and do-less. Yet I have to keep moving, or I will sink into depressed torpor.

Saturday I went to Fremont. I planned to visit my friend who works at a bookstore there. The bus I took landed me about a mile away from where I needed to be so I walked in the rain, looking at all the changes in the area -- I walked past an apartment building I had lived in about eighteen years ago, and it is still there, but other buildings along Aurora Way have been demolished and replaced with sleek new towers. There are still some of the old elaborate houses there, in bad repair.

In Fremont I breakfasted at the Silence Heart Nest, a restaurant run by acolytes of Sri Chinmoy, and the food was excellent, even the baffling tofu bacon that came with my waffle and eggs. It was like a printed strip of paper in bacon colors, but it was approximately bacon flavored. After eating I hung around my friend's shop, bought some books, had some laughs. Went home, mooched around for a bit, tried to record some music, got disgusted at the sound of my own voice, had dinner, turned in early.

Sunday I had to bus out to Redmond to drop off some sundries for Kaija, and that took the guts out of the afternoon. An hour on the bus to get there, a half hour wait for the next bus back, an hour on the bus back. Before leaving I charged up my little MP3 player, and somehow it dumped all 3g of music I had on there! To have something to listen to I loaded it with the songs on my laptop, which are a disparate and crazy lot of stuff. It made the commute stranger.

I bused there and back, got some takeout chicken from Safeway, then went to the library and got books and dvds. Watched "Hara-kiri" -- an intense Japanese film from 1962, which I first saw on television (PBS!) when I was fourteen or so. The main bad guy kept reminding me of Scott Adsit, Pete Hornberger from "30 Rock". I also watched "A Liar's Autobiography", the film based on Graham Chapman's memoirs, and though it lost forward motion towards the end, it makes a good adjunct to the book itself -- you get to hear or see routines and events mentioned in the book, like Graham's "minute of abuse" sketch. To bed late.

Dec. 3rd, 2014

07:02 am

Dreaming again. Thinking of a story about a musician who gets into a scrape when his gig gets cancelled in Reno ... as I think over the possibilities I am walking in a field with about a thousand other people, we are packed elbow to elbow, but we have to keep moving .. the ground is uneven and I plant my steps carefully so I don't stumble .. hard to think of ideas for a story while trying to walk carefully. This is too realistic a dream, and is easy to decode.

Dec. 1st, 2014

11:32 am - One, two, three, four, four day week-end

What to do with a four day weekend?

Why not try ...Collapse )

Nov. 26th, 2014

09:48 am - Gnat King Shiv

It's gratitude season once again, and one has to take stock of what one feels is most important in one's life, what is buoying one's self out of the flooded coal mine of oblivion. It's been a harsh year for many, this one just wrapping up, and so I am making a list of what I am grateful for.

As always, I am grateful for Kaija having taken me in and letting me live with her. The match may be rough at times but I still would not want to be elsewhere.

I'm grateful for family. I lost my dad this year, but my mother and sister and their families are still there, so I don't feel alone. Fate has kept the largest sadnesses from my door this year and I am very grateful for that.

I'm glad to be working. The job keeps me sane and keeps me solvent.

Glad for my network of friends, all over the world, who keep in touch through various ways. And happy to be part of the giant glass-bead-game of indie comics and zines! A finer fellowship can't be had anywhere else. Going to a comix show is like going to a family reunion.

And then there is, or are, YOU. I am honored to be a part of your life and hope that we can keep our connection strong.

Nov. 24th, 2014

12:27 pm

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Here they are. Look at them. These are my parents when they were young, probably when they first met. My dad has always looked like a young, Mexican Peter Sellers, a bit of a rake. Look at that shirt. And Mom is a cutie here, in her white shirt and hoops. The level gaze of a dreamer.

They were not right for each other and it is amazing that they stayed together long enough to have kids: my sister and me. Dad was a flirt, a rover, not the sort of man to settle down without a struggle. Mom needed love, she needed compassion and care. Once they threw in together, they quickly realized that they weren't going to get what they wanted out of the relationship. Yet, stuck together as they were, they made the best of their situation. When I knew them the youth was fading off their faces, often replaced by sadness or boredom or even fury. We laughed sometimes, we loved each other sometimes, but when we split up we went in four directions at once, each to a different part of the world, like prizefighters in a four-way battle royale retreating to our corners at the end of the round. These photos were found in my dad's possessions after his passing, illustrations from a Choose Your Own Adventure where he chose the right path but somehow wound up in the wrong ending.

07:06 am

I had slfcllednowhere 's dreams, it would seem ... I was watching a video for "Road Movie To Berlin", in which the Johns were wearing strange makeup that made them look like Wallace Shawn .. during the big instrumental break they went out on a stage and danced in this giant production number with showgirls and pyrotechnics .. I was laughing in the dream, and I'm chuckling to remember it.

After that I was backstage, and John F. was scolding his driver about the way he was driving the car (we were simultaneously backstage and on I-5) and then I was talking to his bass player, a woman, about the remaining shows on the tour, and then we were back onstage performing a song by John L. which was about how terrible the pastries at Starbucks usually are ...

Nov. 21st, 2014

07:02 am

Dreaming again, though I don't remember much. I slept eight straight hours last night, waking up to the rain again and the notion that I will sleep SO LATE tomorrow morning. I am dreaming a lot about China: the night before I dreamed a Chinese miniseries or telenovela I was watching, called "Ocean" or "Anthem". This morning I dreamed I was walking in a park with my parents, who were a Chinese couple. Cute couple, very much in love with each other. I wished I had had parents like that.

Nov. 20th, 2014

07:06 am

A good friend reached the end of the road with her boyfriend -- it ended horribly, he hurt her physically when she was down with a bad sickness. She was able to get out and get to a safe house, and yesterday a band of her friends got together and liberated her stuff from the guy's house.

I took Molly's CD with me to wait for the morning bus -- rain. It was nice to lie in bed this morning and hear the rain whispering in the branches of the shrubs outside the window. In the cold morning, standing next to the crammed-full bus shelter, less nice. The other bus came, the shelter emptied, I took a place inside; alone, reading on my phone about the friends saving my friend's stuff, I listened to this song. The original is by Mary Margaret O'Hara, the enigmatic Canadian singer, but here is an amazing version of it.

Nov. 17th, 2014

12:25 pm - How did Short Run go this year?

Short Run day dawned bright and clear, if cold.

Events here!Collapse )

All praise to the organizers: Kelly, Eroyn, Janice, and Robyn, and all the volunteers and helpers and everybody. Now I have a Goat Tote full of comics I have to read, savoring them one by one, and letting them soothe me through the long winter to come.

Nov. 14th, 2014

09:15 am

In the chute for Short Run .. it's tomorrow. This will be the fourth one, and it bids fair to be the greatest commix show ever. Among the special guests and exhibitors are a number of people whom I love and get to see rarely, so I am hyped to be there. In addition, this year I did not get a table, but a dear friend will let me sell my two new books at her table, plus I will be able to circulate and schmooze without having to anchor a chair down. I've promised to help set up for the dance afterwards, so I may get to stay for that also. I'll have a full report for you on Monday. Or Tuesday. More likely Tuesday.

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