the sky reflected in the lake I suppose I have been in the doldrums for a while. Like Milo in The Phantom Tollbooth (a book I love), I'm trying to think (think really hard) my way out of it. Fingers crossed. That said, any thoughts will not do. I've been thinking about how I don't …
Sometimes you know when it's the last time. You walk through an apartment before turning in the keys. You wave to a teacher before going to pick up a graduation gown. You empty a desk before walking out the office door. There are those moments when you might say, "This is it. I will not …
I don't remember when I started to talk about death. Mom and I used to talk about it--what we thought happened afterwards in particular. In my early teens, Mom, her college classmates, and their professor spent the night in a cemetery with recording equipment and cameras with infrared film. Later, Mom's boyfriend (who had been …
Continue reading A Possibly Morbid Post (that I needed to write anyway)
Back in college, I fell into something of a bad habit--obsessively talking badly about a particular person. To be clear, he deserved everything I said about him. But perhaps my friends grew weary of hearing my rants again and again. Okay, they definitely did. And also, rehashing the unfortunate relationship wasn't a good path to …
Above is my art. I'm not skilled at drawing realistic animals. I'd like to be, and maybe I can figure out how to work some classes into my life, or at least some YouTube videos. Then I could draw better foxes, rabbits, and dragons. Please accept my poor rendering of a fox. The sort of …
Across the street from me is a group of houses, and on the roof of one of these houses is a pipe and some wires. The wires must be running the electricity to the house and the pipe is, I don't even know. Laundry room vent? Whatever. The point is, after these houses were built, …
This house is condemned, but I still find it weirdly compelling. I'm not at my best. Not even a little. But in spite of the horrors, here I am, trying to write and make art like some sort of delusional squirrel trying to cross a road. Who am I kidding. I haven't made any new …
I'm trying to be zen. I'm trying. Perhaps the zen part of my brain broke this week. Possibly. It seems likely. Is there a zen repair shop? It'll probably cost too much. Everything does these days, and this is why my zen is broken. Anyway, my apologies, y'all, for conceding to the capitalism hellscape by …
Continue reading Can you tell me the way to the zen repair shop?
The title of this blog post may make no sense. Hey, it describes the what's in the photo, does it not? This entertaining creation sits on a table in a local coffee shop. This particular coffee shop has been through it. I love its tenacity. Its vibes. But it seems like nearly everywhere is going …
Marta Pelrine-Bacon 