Unclenching.

We're in a hellscape --perfection paralysis isn't an option anymore. Making is resisting.

“Fucking onward –and fucking upward” I muttered to myself pretty unconvincingly at the end of last week. I knew the shown asses that would eclipse what would otherwise be observed as the ever more crucial to consider Martin Luther King Jr. Day. The inauguration of the 47th presidency- a ritual of people so powerful yet so lacking in swag that cringe and terror have never overlapped so magnificently - and I knew that the harm that would come to us all in its aftermath would be well beyond merely spiritual and psychic. I knew - and so I kept at my business messy as it may be - drawing, photographing, some freaky little videos with music. Also - I knew that with the potential sundowning of Tik-Tok the plutocrats would smugly be of the belief that somehow those of us who diligently make shit and or even putter for fun and profit would just roll over or shrivel up —-or more frighteningly - die.

We are in moment so disorientingly not in a good way weird that withholding thought or dissent or ideas unless they are fully formed and perfect is the instinct of many - but perfection in this moment is a luxury and privilege that we can’t afford. The only way beyond his landscape mulched in the manure fresh from the horses asses of modern fascism - is to cut a path straight through it and litter it with the seeds of our making. Making. Making whatever it is that any of us makes - music, art, observations, a big fat boobied stink?  Whatever it is– put your time into making and get it out there. We mustn't knot our sphincters over whether or not what we do is perfect - and that advice is as much for my own damn self as anyone else. 

While the withering fear of ‘getting it right’ or being ‘good enough’ doesn’t strike me with other shit I dirty my hands with, for me writing - is scary business.  Despite my loquacious affect in person - I am a goddamn scaredy cat in print.  Mostly because talking and conversation were compensatory behaviors for having a boatload of learning challenges in school - which have followed me into adulthood and it's exhausting. Folks have always believed that because I could talk good - so too could I write. Yet- anytime I managed to poke my head up in a public forum, or online someone would invariably wack me into my hidey hole like the editorially deputized equivalent of a sugared up kid at the shore arcade keeping dry rotted mechanical moles at bay.  But - I am making an effort  - and I assure you I will be making mistakes aplenty. Nevertheless -this week I intend to begin providing both short and long pieces - and in the near future you can expect to hear more about: 

-Drawing badly but drawing often 

-Bob Uecker, Furries and the Fash 

- Western PA- and what a fucked up mess it is 

- Short takes on music, film and pop culture 

My hope is that as I grow more comfortable I can dig deeper into topics that I have been mining for the last number of years which I feel deserve an audience in this climate. Things that reflect the origin stories of how we got to this moment - via my time in Western Pennsylvania and working in public policy and public history.

Those stories will emerge soon enough - but for now I will write and post about topics at hand for me. and later this evening I hope to drop a short essay on drawing as an act of learning and as a mediating experience. I’ll be adding some observations gleaned from a chat I had with prolific writer in the world of comics and games Janet Harvey Nevela about kicking your own ass out of comfort zones.

So, for now - the working title of this blog derives itself from the reluctant but crucial energy of letting it fly with mistakes - instead of being silenced by cheek clenching perfectionism. Onward - and fucking upward!