Tonight is new moon and I am not going to have time to pull and write my quarterly tarot read.
I had an abnormal Litha, spending most of the day shut up in my office writing. I had a 20k word day rewriting and revising two half-ass old manuscripts that I am weaving together with a refreshed, well-developed common lore.
The week was busy in other ways. I was mostly reading. My TBR pile is stupid right now. I have four different novel-length projects I’m in research mode with. And I obviously hate myself because the project I mentioned in the last paragraph’s research list included shit from Schopenhauer, Saint Germain, & anonymous (“The Chymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreutz”). I think my brain has been officially liquid since about 3 a.m. Saturday morning.
I’ve allowed myself to become very emotionally involved in a lot of current events* & there is some guilt when I admit it has really dragged me. Nobody asked me to care & my ability to help has been greatly hindered by both my superpower of emotional overload & living in relative obscurity in the middle of nowhere. So to sum it up, I feel bad & tired & also feel bad about feeling bad & tired.
That said, this is not a huge problem because now is not the time for my shit & there is zero problem with staying quiet.
I’ve been working on putting together a tarot channel for YouTube, but video editing is a real pain in the ass. I’m obviously not the world’s foremost perfectionist, but even after putting a couple of hours into a twenty minute video there remained an unsatisfying majority of ums, chair creaks, & errant sighs.
& while I’m still stoked on eventually getting the channel running, I’m eager to get started with readings.
In the past I’ve mostly done drunk tarot readings with friends on sabbats. But since we are no longer able to meet up, I plan to offer somewhat sober online readings weekly, by the moon cycle. I’m a little behind as the Flower Moon was actually on the 7th, but I’ll try to be a little early next week.
For me, tarot is super fucking fun. Here are all these random symbols, archetypes & you have to try to weave a story out of it. & sometimes that story functions — like myriad other narratives — as a mirror allowing you to see your own situation from another perspective.
It’s fucking brilliant & I love it, but it’s entertainment, it’s storytelling. While I consider myself a fairly intuitive & empathetic human being, I’m nothing special. I claim no particular talent & in general, I know nothing.
I tend to read in a way that emphasizes positive growth & try to offer a couple of different interpretations to make room for different philosophical or spiritual perspectives. However, I’m not interested in writing a novel-length interpretations, so my advice is to take what best suits you & leave the rest behind.
Note: These readings are very freeform & I’m probably only going to go back through & edit as needed, so if you see a typo or a sentence that does not make sense please let me know. Since I tend to ramble, I will include a TLDR version at the end.
This is the second of three articles about how my philosophical & spiritual ideas inform my creative work. I’m writing these in spring of 2020 in the throes of isolation, presented with a unique opportunity to sit with my thoughts.
“Without contraries there is no progression.”
I’m never going to be a memoirist, any story is more interesting to write than my own & the practice of trying to weave it into something resembling a cohesive narrative is not a thing I particularly enjoy.
The truth is, I’m pretty ordinary — I’m fucked up in all the ordinary ways. & I’d like to believe that there are a lot of us are walking around with fractured faces. Our personalities cut into facets we show in different situations — work, & friends, & home.
& while I may be cracked a little deeper than some, I think there may still be some shine to it all.
One is absolute ass but working within the prompt given by NaPoWriMo. The other does not follow the prompt at all & came to me on a whim before I even checked the site. But I’m counting it because I’m desperate & also quite comfortable believing that it’s not something I can edit into a sub.
Because I have two poems, I will also share two selections. Let’s go.
I’m officially a week behind in posting & I’m switching over to 100% NaPoWriMo posts to staunch the bleed.
Thing is, there is a lot to do now. All the busyness of spring has been met with needing to somehow find a way to adapt a myriad of different little routines to account for staying home & keeping it in order.
Additionally, I have days where all I do is paint or practice an instrument.
I’m trying to come to my desk daily to deal with poetry as I also have active subs that need to be kept up. I have four poems forthcoming (Crepe & Penn, Mineral Lit, & Little Death) on top of the first draft prompt-based stuff I’m posting here. & I’m also managing a seeking publication pile at least 20-deep that requires undue fiddling & sending out to mags.
That doesn’t mean I’m ready to give up on the 30 poems challenge. I’ve fallen behind & am obviously not following the rules to a T, but I’m going to keep rolling.
This is the first of three articles about how my philosophical & spiritual ideas inform my creative work. I’m writing these in spring of 2020 in the throes of isolation, presented with a unique opportunity to sit with my thoughts.
I know it’s the middle of Camp NaNoWriMo & National Poetry Month. I know I should be sticking to the things I have set goals for. But the twin influence of isolation & immersion in my projects has my roots itching. & so I’m going to freewrite a bit about why I am the insufferable way I am & why I love all the people who do the things they do.
I’m promising no specific organization & stumble forward with the rustiest non-fic organizational instinct remembered from my days of working at a community newspaper.
The good news is that this blog is in large an exercise of how much of my voice the void can swallow. & if you are out there in the void making your own shit, I love you and here’s why…
I’m going to stick with my original plan and call my day where I am in the prompts/goals & spill over into May.
I’m still adjusting to this new schedule — having just adjusted to the old-new schedule. I have no outside help (by this I mostly mean food service which it turns out I was more dependent upon than I realized) & grocery service is patchy here, a problem exacerbated by people panic buying gluten-free items when the bread runs out & the stores not in a huge hurry to restock the specialty items.
Also, this all happened in spring & I rent a double-wide on its own lot. So, landscaping is my responsibility. Which is usually fine & enjoyable, but it’s one more thing on top of a thousand others while struggling with the basics.
Also, it’s full moon today so I have certain things I do by the moon cycle that are also eating at my time.
Anyway, I hope all is well wherever you are & I’ll go ahead & get rolling on this.
Though I’m trying to stay positive, today has been a tough one.
I’m pretty open about my feelings when it comes to the arts. I would talk anyone into trying anything, even if just for the discovery to be found in the process.
But I struggle pretty hard against my own feelings of inadequacy. I know my efforts are artless at best & this constant trudging onward can feel like self-flagellation regardless my deeply-held beliefs that apply to literally everyone but me.
It’s shitty, it’s hypocritical, but I can’t help what I feel.
Between the emo & dealing with an ongoing chronic illness flare, it’s been a whole day.
Anyway, I’m going to try to push through, so let’s go…