Welcome To My Bed

Seven Days a Week

Hands up if you're out there hustling for your art.  Hustling feels like all I ever do.  I even wrote about for the Billfold: check out my article on the limited financial options of a working artist here.  For a more detailed picture of the arts economics ledger, check out this detailed breakdown of how much money I've spent on being a writer so far in 2013.  Despite what some article commenters seem to believe, this constant hustle is more than okay with me, because running myself ragged often has very lovely results.  Get out your news kazoos: I have LOTS to report.

for real though, I'll make you a dinosaur crown as awesome as this one (for a modest fee)

for real though, I'll make you a dinosaur crown as awesome as this one (for a modest fee)

I'm hard at work painting ghosts as prizes for my Indiegogo campaign.  If you haven't already, please take a look at what's on offer and help me fund my West Coast summer tour; there are only 28 days left to donate!  I will write you a personalized poem and snail mail it on a postcard for only $5, and the rewards get exponentially more fantastic from there.  There are out-of-print chapbooks up for grabs, as well as my forthcoming poetry EP "Feed The Dead," and the aforementioned ghost paintings.  Give what you can; share if you can't.  And if none of the reward tickle your particular fancy, could I possibly interest you in a handmade dinosaur crown?

Also deserving of fanfare and your support: the new issue of Printer's Devil Review (my first as nonfiction editor) is out and proudly strutting its stuff on our fair internet.  It was a joy to put together, even in the proofreading.  The design is gorgeous, the writing is superb, and the art makes me think and smile and then think some more.  It's free to read online, so please please do, and know that we have just reopened submissions for our next issue.  I want your true (mostly factual) stories and essays, but the other editors will take your lies and shepherd them into the world if fiction or verse is how you do.

Speaking of shepherded lies and mostly factual truths, I have two poems in the latest issue of ILK, "Stars in Arles" and "Wedding Soup."  The first may mark the beginning of a series of van Gogh poems (I am obsessed; have you read his letters?), while the second is a love letter to my first Providence summer and the many loves therein.  I'm working on a collage response to one of the other poems in the issue, but which and why are a secret for now.  Stay tuned!

A Major Message, Courtesy of The Rider-Waite Deck

I went out to NoHo at the end of August to spectate at the first of their monthly poetry brothels  and had the first tarot reading of my life.  It was just a simple three-card thing and I don't know much about the whole process, but I like having an interpretative framework for life and a trusted friend was doing the readings, so I went for it.  Lapsed Catholicism doesn't really help sort out the details on a regular basis, so cards will do.


It was a Past/Present/Future reading; my cards came up Ace of Wands, The Hanged Man, and The Sun.  I was told this is a really positive sequence.  In the past position, the Ace signifies coming from a place of intense creative spark, which definitely applies.  The past year has been one of explosive changed, especially creatively.  My first issue with Side B is under my belt.  I've had more than my fair share of publishing credits.  I've picked up my paints in earnest.  The recent past is a kind, glowing place in which I am at the pinnacle of productivity.  The Hanged Man is apparently a tough card for Virgos, no matter where it lands.  We don't like being restrained or asked to remain patient while the world continues to speed by.  (This must be why I always have such a hard time meditating.)  I am on the cusp astrologically speaking though, which means that if I can force myself to be more of a Libra about the now, then I will be much better for it.

Finally, my future card: The Sun.  My friend was ecstatic when I turned this last card over.  Apparently it means that the creative sparks in my past, through patience in the now, will result is big creative triumphs for me.  The waiting it the key, but the horizon has lots of good things in store.  And from the the bottom of the deck--my "distant future" card--came The Knight of Cups, a sign of more success to come.  Now, I am nothing if not impatient.  I had this reading about a month ago and am still antsy for something big to happen.  I've got over about 25 submissions out being read, many of them held onto so long that I know the writing must be getting at least a second look with an eye towards publication.  Anxiously tapping my foot while waiting for acceptance letters to come rolling in won't make them come any faster (or protect me from the inevitable rejection letters that will pepper the same batch of responses), but I'm still doing it.  On the bright side, I sold a painting for the first time in my life on Saturday (and there are more for sale here, along with full-size prints).  So, thus far anyway, the predictions have been correct.  I suppose I'm just greedy when it come to getting the good stuff I've been promised, even if the promises only came from an entirely fallible deck of cards.