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I’ll take a photo of the actual piece when it is finished. Let me know what you think of this mock-up version.

{edit}
Why do such seemingly simple things end up being so complicated??? I don’t have a way to finish the fabric part, so I need a stapler or a staple gun. Plus, my plan for attaching the letters isn’t going to work like I want it to… I don’t really know what else to use. To make it all worse, after smoothing it out and letting it dry I noticed a very large air bubble in an obvious part of the orange fabric (it would end up being right in the middle of the top part of the “Y.” I think I fixed it, but it may look a little weird in that spot… better than the large air bubble. “S” & “Y” should be ready to hang by Sunday. There is some drying time involved with the letters… I need a super-strong epoxy of some sort I think. None of this is going to be removable like I had originally imagined, but the end result will still be great.

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My newest obsession. Amy Butler is a designer with some amazing lines of fabric and paper craft supplies. I discovered her designs last week (though I had seen them before — I just didn’t know that they were designed by her). I’ve been working on some art for my wall. I want to wrap a canvas in fabric and add a large letter in the center. There are three of them, which will spell out the word “sly.”

All parts of this took a long time to decide on. The longest part was the fabric. I was browsing through magazines on my lunch break during one of my last days at Borders. On the cover of one was a tablecloth in a great damask pattern. I thought it would look great, but assumed that it would be difficult to find something like it. I purchased the magazine anyway.

Inside, I found that the cover story was not only about the fabric used on the tablecloth, but about Amy Butler herself. All the projects were based on designs in her fabric line for Rowan fabrics. As soon as I got home, I searched for the fabrics online. Of course, the ones I liked the most were very difficult to find. But I eventually did. I found Duck Egg Acanthus (the one from the tablecloth) and Teal Acanthus on one site and Olive Acanthus on a different site. I ordered plenty of each to make sure I would be able to use the extra length for pillows, curtains, etc to bring everything in the room together.

The other day, I received the Duck Egg & Teal. These are the softest cotton fabrics I have ever felt. Although they are not nearly as wide as most other fabrics, they are of such great quality and beauty that they are totally worth buying. I am reserving quite a bit of each for use later, but still using some for accents in the living room.

Now, I am on the search for Amy Butler papers for scrapbooking. At Michaels, we sell the album in the Olive Acanthus pattern. I don’t really want a busy patterned album though. I would rather have the paper to use inside.

amy butler’s website
purl’s amy butler collection
crafty planet’s amy butler collection

Images & Featured Image Art: designs from Amy Butler’s “New Belle” collection

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I’ve been a little down recently. I’m trying not to be.

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It was a sudden shift, but I officially do not work at Borders any longer. This was a rather difficult decision, and yet the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

It had been building for quite some time. A particularly difficult person had been making my job even harder because of obvious disagreements between us. It seemed obvious that one of us would have to go. Having a position above me, the upper hand was gained and the pressure to get rid of me was on.

It seemed that Grant would rather me leave if I was not going to fight back, but I am hardly a fighter in these situations. I don’t blame him at all. He wants a certain kind of management staff, which he is not finding. I wish it could be what is should be, but there is a lack of competence.

I really loved working for Borders — I hope to end up there again one day (hopefully, not too long from now). Book retail is second nature to me and Borders has really proven itself to me. It is a disorganized and messy company full of people who care about what they do. It is nice to have been associated with passionate people. Obviously, my time with Barnes & Noble was much longer, but Borders now has a portion of my heart too. On top of that, I really loved the specific position I held at Borders and hope I can find similar work at another company.

I really didn’t want to leave, but it felt like something I needed to do. And I really wanted to make my leaving about something other than difficulties with another person, but it really wasn’t. There was no real stress in my tasks, but a great amount in worrying what I would do to get angry e-mails from someone who just can’t seem to get along with other people.

I will land on my feet. Michaels has offered me hours until I find something else, understanding that my love for books will compel me to find a job at a bookstore.

Image: photo by Jan Mellstrom (via Unsplash)

Featured Image Art: Keith Henderson, “Girl and boy in windy landscape” (1913)

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So, I have been really quite busy since I returned from my vacation. I have been keeping David Eugene company while he works on moving himself & his landlord, working on my own house, researching some stuff for Mr. Alley (David), and working both jobs. Since they gave me a promotion at Michaels, I have more of a set schedule, but also more hours each week. The money will be nice; I am still adjusting to the time. Plus, David is directly above me, which is fine, but it is weird. Borders is going fine too. I don’t think that I necessarily care more after time off, but I have time to gain perspective on issues I have been thinking about and give myself the time to create a plan. This vacation was no different. I have plans for Borders and I intend to make my section (the office) better than it has been in a long time.

I have been tired. When I have a spare moment, I sleep. I’m really glad I am busier though. Being out in the world more is very good for me. I am looking forward to adding TV night to my calendar again… that is with a couple of people from work. I enjoy spending time with them and it has been too long.

Image: photo of Krista

Featured Image Art: photo of Brian & Grant

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“No man needs a vacation so much as the person who has just had one.”
–Elbert Hubbard

Vacation. It is going pretty well. I have managed to irritate, aggravate, or annoy more people in less time than my previous visit. It feels like an accomplishment. It shouldn’t. I really didn’t mean to be the source of any problems. I’ve enjoyed seeing everyone. However, being stuck at my parents’ finally got to me. It all started when I arrived on Tuesday.

I left Anchorage after a very long day Monday. I had worked at Borders from 7-3:30 and at Michaels from 5-10. The flight was to leave at 12:30, but of course I was at the airport by 10:45. It was far too early, but I didn’t want to fall asleep until I was on the plane. And we had a full flight, of course. I slept the entire way to Seattle. The layover was too short to sleep there. I slept on the way to Denver. I was fairly awake, but cranky in Denver. I ate nachos, contemplated changing, and generally didn’t want to be there. I feared that I would not be able to sleep on the way from Denver to Tulsa, but luckily, I dozed off well, even though I was sitting between two people.

When I arrived, it was nice to have Brad waiting for me at the airport. We gathered my bags and made a couple stops. I wanted to go by Barnes & Noble and Hot Topic (my barbell in my tongue was stripped). After that, I was really sleepy and slept on the hour trip to Stillwater. It was nice to hang out with Brad. We got in, went to pick up Conner (my nephew), and came back to my parents’ house. It was pretty late and there wasn’t much left to do. So, I slept. And well.

Wednesday & Thursday were both spent stuck at my parents’ house. I liked the people there: Dad, Conner, & Jason, but I was feeling rather trapped. I just wanted to be able to drive away for a little while, but I couldn’t. Mom’s brakes had gone out, so her car was not drivable. I spent most of Friday sleeping. My reunion registration was at 5 and mom arrived in time for me to borrow my grandpa’s car (which she had been driving all week) and get in to register. My brother arrived just as I did, which was an odd coincidence. We talked to Andrea for a bit and then drove around until we needed to be at Mexico Joe’s at 8 for the reunion. First, we stopped at Wal-Mart to get me a shirt.

My class reunion was weird — good weird. I was a bit of a loner in school. I knew everyone and I am sure they all knew me, but I wasn’t exactly friends with them. I have always felt connected to these people though. I know that I will be the one who attends the reunions everytime and grows to be more fond of these people as the years go by. And why didn’t I take the time to get to know them back then? Of course, the same ones who annoyed me in high school annoyed me at the reunion. And everyone had kids… or so it seemed. Overall, it was a good experience. I talked to only a few people, but really felt like I was part of a group… one I couldn’t get kicked out of, even if they didn’t really care for me. That was oddly comforting. What made the whole thing even better is having family there. Since Brent & I were in the same class — and therefore graduated together — he and Laurisa were there for me to hang out with. They’ve always been the types that have a lot more casual friends, whereas I always had a few very close friends. Speaking of, Travis was there. Unfortunately, a family emergency kept him from attending the family fun day on Saturday.

The family fun day was interesting. I initially didn’t want to go, but Brent insisted. It was fun to see all the kids. And it was fun to spend time with my neices, KC & Avery. They are a lot of fun to be around. What I will always remember is that I was poorly dressed, due to the mud at my parents’ house. Ick.

Sadly, we’ve already lost 4 classmates and 2 teachers. I don’t know the details of all of the deaths, but it really made me stop and think. 4 out of 402 is really quite a lot. I only really knew 1 of the students and 1 of the teachers.

Thank you David & Heather for letting me complain to you.

Updates: updated brian’s body: an exploration; updated a few links; removed a few images from Threadless Shirts page.
Activities: hung out with Mom & Dad; drove to Brent & Laurisa’s with Annie
Food: potato wedges & ketchup, split pea soup, toast with olive oil spread, potato salad, tortilla chips, Krispy Kreme mini crullers, 3+ Diet Cokes, 3 bottles of white and/or green tea. (it sounds like a lot, but I had just a little of all of this stuff)

Images: photo of Bradley, Brian, & Brent; Stillwater High School Pioneer logo

Featured Image Art: vintage map of Oklahoma

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I had a dream that is obviously about my family. It ran like some sort of music video or animated short. My parents were a pair of love birds sitting happily in the middle of a large cutout in the shape of the US. Suddenly, around them flew three other birds: a raven, a peacock, and an owl. The raven quickly settled nearby, finding another raven to build a nest with. The peacock flew around for a while, but soon settled with a peahen not too far from the lovebirds. The owl, however, after flying in circles for some time, flew high into the air, flew far away, and found a branch in a tree on the far end of the US; away from the other birds where it perched alone.

Updates: no new updates
Activities: worked at Borders; not feeling well, called out from Michaels
Food: 3 biscotti, 2 Diet Cokes, Nachos, tea

Featured Image Art: collage art by Brian Fuchs

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Mãe, Ammee, Madre, Màna, Kantaäiti, Biang, Mother, Mere, Nyokap, Moer, Mum, Matka, Nënë, Maji, Ema, Kryemurgeshë, Mëmë, Emo, Mom

“A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie.”
–Tenneva Jordan

I doubt most people are half as lucky as I am. I have the great benefit of not only having a wonderful mother, but also, in the same person, I have a great friend. LaDonna Marie Fuchs (Tucker) is one of the most generous people to inhabit this earth and one of the most humble. I strive daily to be more like her and yet don’t have the exact quality that makes her so unique. Mom is independent, intelligent, & content. Today, as we celebrate mothers, I just hope she knows how important she is to me.

I remember when I was young — I could have been 8 or 11 or some such age — I made a decision about my relationship with my mom. We had gone up to her classroom at Rainbow on a Saturday to get something (I don’t remember what it was — plastic treat bags, craft supplies, bright pink buckets). It seems like it was fall. She believed she had picked up a certain number of something or a certain specific something. When she said so, I corrected her, knowing that she had been wrong. “Oh,” she responded in disappointment. It was the way she said it. The “oh” was so sad to me at the age I was. I didn’t want her to feel that way ever again. I decided to not be the source of this kind of “oh” in the future. It seems silly that I have held on to such an insignificant memory. And I have hardly kept my promise, causing both intentional and unintentional pain throughout the years since this incident. But I keep coming back to this, remembering my solemn vow to keep my mom satisfied.

Today, when I feel like everything I say is making no sense to anyone else, I call my mom (or my dad or my brothers). To my family, my words make sense, even when they don’t. To my parents, my values and beliefs are familiar.

I hope all the mothers out there have a wonderful day today.

Updates: no new updates
Activities: worked at Michaels
Food: 4 veggie burger patties, french fries, 4 or 5 cans of Diet Coke

Image: photo of LaDonna & Conner Fuchs

Featured Image Art: Ludwig Sellmayr, “Fuchsfamilie” (1873)

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Okay, I admit that it is unwise to eat things that you know will cause some sort of allergic reaction. It boils down to common sense. Why would you knowingly ingest something that will cause your tongue or neck to swell. But that is the game I have been playing. I have come to the conclusion that I have a slight allergy to sunflower nuts. To test my theory, I have been continuing to eat sunflower nuts & things made with sunflower oil to see what sort of reaction I might have. If you are interested, the nuts seem to cause my tongue to swell, the oil seems to cause my neck to swell. It is all very curious. It is also entirely possible that I am reacting to something other than sunflowers. I’d have to be willing to go to the doctor to come to any real conclusion about my health. Paying for insurance is one thing, actually finding a physician and making appointments is quite another. I also have this quirky notion that I want a female doctor. I’m not sure why that is exactly and maybe it is just best to not delve into that.

I have been thinking about the direction of this site since I restarted it back in March. I think it is only natural for it to evolve, but it lacks a clear purpose. Maybe that is best, but I would like a bit of structure. Watch for changes soon. I doubt anything drastic will be altered, but a few minor details will. I’d like to get others reading this soon. {that isn’t to say I don’t love y’all who do read this — you’re my favorite people!}

Updates: new page — brian’s body: an exploration
Activities: worked at Borders
Food: Oreo Javakula, onion fettuccini, veggie calzone, salad (iceberg lettuce & blue cheese dressing), orange soda {admittedly not my healthiest food day on record. They can’t all be! Plus, I needed some comfort food after the day I had at work.}

Image: vintage botanical illustration of Sunflower

Featured Image Art: AI Image (created using Wonder AI)

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I hope May is off to a great start for everyone. I was thinking about the absurdity of the maypole the other day. I guess it is no weirder than leprechaun footprints, egg-laying rabbits, or airborne caribou, but it just seemed like an unlikely holdover from the past. A large rod rising into nothing, adorned with ribbons of color. The odd edifice is accompanied by its own dance, a pre-Christian ritual celebrating the arrival of summer. But this seems to be the entirety of the May Day rituals. Dance around a pole merrily; repeat as needed. Curious.

The snow is still around town in little stubborn piles. It seems warm enough for these to melt, but they are resisting quite effectively. It seems wrong to have even the recent memory of snow in May, but it really was only a few weeks ago that we were driving on the permanent layer of snow and ice, packed down for months. I had really grown accustomed to the blanket of white and was a little sad to see it go. That got me more than a few raised eyebrows. The consensus seems to be that summer is so short that it should be enjoyed while it can be. For me, I found myself missing the winter because it had been so long. There had been snow covering the ground since October. That is a long bit of time.

I have solidified plans to go home this month. I paid for tickets. The flights were so booked that I will be traveling for half a day each way, with 2 layovers. It seemed like the worst way to go, but I had waited so long that my options were limited. I am really looking forward to seeing everyone, but I am not looking forward to the heat. I have become a person who is quite comfortable when it is 18° outside and the heat barely warms up the house. Start talking about Oklahoma heat and I sweat at the mere thought of it. I can’t wait to see my family though.

I am finally starting to get into a groove with 2 jobs. I requested no more than 3 days at Michaels, which they were more than okay with. That allows me some time at home, which I have used this week for extra sleep. I can already see myself getting back to my normal routine in the next week or so, so you can expect the updates I owe this site. And I need more requests. I am currently still working on the most recent one, but I need to get more!!! Travis?

Featured Image Art: Maria Primachenko, “Dancer (Tecurity)” (1980)

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{{I am enjoying this story and this character quite a bit. I’m working very slowly on it. I know exactly what I want from it, but it is taking some time to get it just right. If you have suggestions on improvements I could make, feel free to leave them.}}

Story Preview: “Haunting”

Sometimes glamour can distract a person from certain danger. Sometimes the thrill of a thing outweighs the consequences of that thing.

I was invited to spend the night in a castle while I was traveling through Europe. It was a promotional stunt, fueled by the long-held belief by the local people that this particular castle is in fact haunted. The building is quite small, made from a sand-colored stone and topped with a couple of weatherworn gargoyles — not the finest examples, but a reminder that this place is from a different time. I decided that this would be quite an adventure to recount when I arrived back in the Sates, so I went for it.

I was told to bring with me anything I might need throughout the night, but not more than a half-dozen or so items. The entire point was to make me feel a bit uncomfortable. I had decided by that point to make the most of this opportunity, so gathering the items wasn’t much of a chore. I knew what I wanted almost immediately.

I had a large journal with a black and grey patterned cloth cover, which I carry almost everywhere. I would use this to write if I was inclined to do so. I carry a journal around with me most of the time. Inspiration can catch me at odd moments and it is nice to have something handy to jot down ideas. Along with a few pens, I knew which two items were absolutely going to be with me. I had to consult my bags for the rest. I decided that a flashlight would be an excellent choice — loaded with fresh batteries, of course. I hadn’t packed one, so I’d have to stop at a store to get one. Realizing that the castle would not be furnished, I grabbed a pillow. I nearly took a blanket too, but the nights had been warm during my stay and I suspected that this one would be no different. The last thing I settled on was a jade pendant — an amulet of sorts — that had been left to me by my great grandmother. It is made of black jade and carved in the shape of a cricket. It has always been my good luck charm.

————–

I’m really into this story. There is more coming, but wanted to get a little snippet out there for everyone. There are a lot of confusing tense shifts. I apologize for that. I was rather unsure how to get it just right, but may move it all into past tense. The story is being told by the main character, as stated would happen. I think it is important to not use present tense for that reason. Bear with it… it is very rough.

Featured Image Art: John Kenn Mortensen, “192”

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Having 2 jobs is really tiring. I’m not sure how long I will last, especially with my part-time job scheduling me 4 days. I require down time in my life. I hope I can make it work, but not at the expense of my sanity!

Jess, this next one is going to be great. I will work on it when I have some time… which is… ? eventually!

Featured Image Art: Roz, “Bee #377”

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{{this one really made me think, Jess.}}

hate (‘hAt): 1 a : intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury b : extreme dislike or antipathy.

That doesn’t seem to cover it for me. To hate something or someone takes a lot of energy and isn’t so casual as it is often used. I often use the word hate when I actually mean dislike (sometimes, I even say “I hate” when I really mean “I love but am afraid of what that means”). Hate, like its antithesis love, is a very complicated idea. It is a decision one makes — to actively withhold understanding, compassion, and love from another person or thought.

I’m fairly certain that to “hate” something other than a person or thought is pointless — and in fact, I’m not sure if it is possible. I strongly dislike things (dried cherries, artichokes, hot pink paisley, sandpaper), but I think it is impossible for me to hate them. Hate, unfortunately, is more rational than that. It is a notion based on a set of rules one has formed for themselves. Hate is a common factor in the lives of many people. Although I know I have been hated for being me, I don’t know if I have myself ever truly hated another person. Maybe I have, but it seems like I would remember something so strong.

There are quite a few organizations founded on hatred. These groups promote using this energy to alienate fellow human beings based on factors beyond the control of both parties. This is often cited as a “Christian view,” which makes me ill. To understand someone who lives with hate, it is important to understand that these types of groups exist. It is also important to know what these groups are saying. It is for these reasons — and these reasons only — that I have included a list of links to hate groups. This is the world we live in.

They say it takes all kinds of people, but I would argue that it only takes a lot of different kinds. Some, like these, may contribute so little to humanity as to be unnecessary. I felt so dirty looking these up.

Ku Klux Klan: many individual groups promoting white supremacy, anti-Semitism, racism, anti-Catholicism, homophobia, and nativism.
Americans For Truth: a “Christian” promoting hatred of gays and lesbians.
God Hates Fags: an extremist “Christian” group. This groups has staged protests during funerals, parades, weddings, & other ceremonies. They refer to the organization as “The Westboro Baptist Church.” I have attended events that have been picketed by these people. It makes me sick to think about them.
New Black Panthers: anti-white, anti-Semitic black racist hate group.
Institute for Historical Review: Holocaust denial group.
Traditional Values Coalition: Yet another “Christian” group that chooses to overlook Jesus’ teachings on hate. Keep in mind the lack of teachings on gays, those who this group tries to ostracize.

The Southern Poverty Law Center has been an invaluable resource in researching hate. This is a well-known civil rights law firm, which lists hate groups in America. The only problem I found was that some of the groups listed, while historically affiliated with groups promoting discrimination, no longer have a culture of hate. Sometimes, it is important to forgive past crimes of organizations doing good works today.

To make this less difficult, here is a list of anti-hate sites:

Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD):
hatecrime.org
hatewatch
Deconstructing Hate Sites: article on a Canadian site — worth checking out.
Anti-Defamation League (ADL)
list of anti-hate resources

Beyond these individual sites, most religious groups discourage hate. The Bible certainly does not promote hatred. It is generally a safe assumption that your church will take care of you, regardless of personal differences. If you aren’t finding a loving environment, try one of the many churches across the country who welcome all people to worship. There are so many differences between us all; I won’t try to list the churches here.

I’m glad this one was chosen. It took me quite a few days to finish it and was taxing on my brain, but satisfying now that it is finished. Hatred is such a strong feature of the society we live in today, which is extremely sad.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.”
— Thomas Jefferson

“Owe nothing to anyone except to love one another; for he who loves his neighbor has fulfilled {the} law.”
— Romans 13:8 (NIV)

Featured Image Art: Lyubov Popova, untitled (1922)

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I chose a small school to attend. I grew up in a college town, immersed in the culture of one of the two major schools in the state, but to attend would mean to live at home. I felt ready to be on my own, even if not financially. Rogers State University was only an hour and a half from home, far enough to be away, but close enough to visit at any time. Perfect. Over the few months we had been there, I was starting to really enjoy life away from home. I was only 18.

1998 had just started. I had finished my first year of college and was unsure of where it was all going. I spent much of my time on campus, eating veggie burgers and reading or writing in the small student union. If I wasn’t there, I was in class or working at the on campus daycare.

My favorite new class was Creative Writing I. And my new favorite people were James & Jerry. Both frightened me so much that I could hardly talk to them. James was attractive and brilliant. I could tell he was destined for great things. I had a huge crush. Jerry was slightly older than me and seemed almost lost. He was also attractive and I could tell he and I shared a secret. Eventually, I started talking to him and we were fast friends. We’d hang out daily.

Along with Jerry, that was the year I met my muse, Frank O’Hara. Jerry and I were in the same program at the college. Therefore, we had several of the same classes. American Literature was one of them. We had been assigned a project. I don’t really remember the point of the project, but I do know that Jerry & I decided to video them instead of delivering them live in class. This allowed for us to do more with them. It actually would turn into a disaster. Part of the project was to choose a poem. I found one I liked by a poet I had never heard of. The poet was Frank O’Hara.

I had fallen in love with the style of the poem. It seemed to really speak to me and I quickly became a fan. I researched everything I could about this new person in my life. I felt oddly connected to him and reading his words felt so familiar. I knew that we were meant to know one another, even if it would be posthumously, as O’Hara had died in 1966. It was much later that I realized that this new muse was gay. It all made even more sense. I had found someone to look up to, a writer to model myself after, and I shared so much with him.

Later, I became convinced that I had an even stronger connection to this man. Perhaps I really do. It seems nearly impossible for me to not have been someone who knew Frank O’Hara when he was alive. I could have been him, an admirer, a friend, a lover, a parent, or sibling. Perhaps, I was a coworker who always looked up to him, but something about the connection is far too real to me. Or it could have happened in the opposite direction. Maybe he is around me somehow. Maybe a friend of mine today is him. Or maybe, just maybe, this is all silliness meant to explain why I am so obsessed with a person I could never have known.

There is no way to know and I continue to be a devoted fan.

Sleeping At Lunch

I dreamt I was Frank O’Hara.
I softly kissed Larry Rivers on the forehead
and it was again Rachmaninoff’s birthday.

I took a walk along the familiar path
where I once stopped to type something up,
a poem perhaps or maybe just a note for you.

I detoured down to the apartment where we all lived,
that foul address. God, we were happy when we left!
I remembered a story Joe told and how it made me smile
through the haze of the lumped-together smoke.

I made my way back from lunch to the museum.
Mike had made a cake because they had all forgotten me,
but the cake was no good because Mike is not a baker.

And then I woke up. And I remembered having
been him, but not having been him. Imagine!

7.25.2004

Frank O’Hara believed his birthday to be June 27. His parents had chosen that day to conceal premarital indescretion. Actually, he was born March 27, 1926.

St Francis
for my muse

Your mother was wrong —
the pin was not so
tacky and I can
feel the pain of
disappointment in my stomach.
You believed today was
was your birthday — your
mother was wrong again
(not to tell the truth) —
to believe that she could
hide her own uncontrolled
desires. I think that you
must have known — have
realized at some point
Be free of the lie — love the
day, the day. Join me
in March for a party.

6.27.00

Eventually, I will include a small history about Frank O’Hara, but for now, I will leave you with my account of discovery and obsession with this important figure (to me at least) in American Literature.

The Poet

As I look into the face of a man
33 years postmortem, enough time for Jesus
Time enough to realize — to gain beliefs.
He isn’t watching over

he is part of me. I can
feel it in the way his eyes were blue and in
the way he was Irish — not fully, but enough.
O’Hara — O’Hara — O’Hara.

I praise him leaning
on a door or a wall. I praise him wired with
energy… too much energy.

He made me an insomniac.
He got away with it. If I make dots on
the paper — salty wet dots, it’s realization,
it’s discovery! it’s wow! And maybe I should
go to a movie, buy some flowers and a new
typewriter — to peck away at in my own way.
I long for lunch poetry and Joe LaSueur.

Come Frank, I am waiting.

1.29.00

Frank,

Your words have become a part of me. Everything you meant to be, I try to be too. I am your faithful disciple, your devoted fan, and your dilettante. My words exist because of you, as I try to copy your style and attempt to become you through the craft of putting words on paper. I appreciate that you existed. I am thankful that you came before me to show me the path.

Thank you,
Brian

Jerry-bear,

Oh, wait… don’t call you that. That’s right. I hope you know what an influence you had on me. You gave me the confidence to be myself and seemed to genuinely believe in me as a writer and as a friend. Not many were as supportive at that point in my life and I am grateful that you were.

I’ve always felt like I am in the shadow of your greatness, even now, having spent so many years not even speaking to you. The things you write about and the style in which you do it is inspiring and I appreciate having such amazing talent to look up to. Someday, I hope we can share the stories of our successes with one another again in person. I miss having you around daily. And I would love to revisit a shared piece, having gained much more life experience since the original one-act deal we wrote.

Thank you for being you and helping me be me,
Brian

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A lot of people have supported me very strongly in my writing. It would probably be impossible to list everyone and thank them all individually, but I can still try.

Dearest Jennie,

You and I are abandoned ships, floating in this sea independently, not being able to ride the currents together. I am glad to have reconnected with you. You are an incredible joy to talk to, even in this crazy online world. I appreciate your support on my goals. I am famously horrible at following through with these things, but you don’t seem to notice, nudging me slightly to do what I need to do. Thank you.

Someday, we may both find ourselves tied up in the same harbor, finally together. But I’m not certain of that. Perhaps we were only meant to meet and be friends from afar, one chance encounter and then a series of rediscoveries. Regardless of the universe’s plans, I look forward to knowing you throughout this life.

Many hugs, my little lapin,
Brian

Mom,

Okay, I hear you. I need to write. Don’t get me wrong, I really do appreciate the reminders that someone likes my writing. For a long time, I thought you only said these things out of motherly obligation. I am beginning to switch that thought over. It seems that someone who reads as much as you do wouldn’t encourage me to fail. You must really think I have a talent for this. Thank you for that faith. It is very important to me to know that you want me to succeed — and that you think I can.

Don’t stop encouraging me. I sometimes forget what my goals have been. Remind me as often as it seems necessary. You keep me focused on my task.

I love you,
Brian

Oh, Travis,

You are all too often the little voice in my head. I hate that about you and I love that about you. I’m always saying to myself “don’t be sorry, change your actions,” a useful reminder and life lesson. More often than that, I keep remembering that I could have written a book by now, another helpful reminder from you. You nag me to get things done. I really do appreciate that.

Thanks,
Brian

“Meems”

How odd that I would want to thank you for encouraging me to write. You didn’t think there would be enough money in it to justify it as a career. I know you didn’t mean it to be hurtful, but sometimes it was. It felt like you were reserving some of your approval until you could see success in this goal. What I took away from this, however, was a strong desire to prove you wrong. I haven’t yet, but someday I hope to still. To me, it now seems that your wariness of writing as a profession was a type of encouragement. Thank you.

Brian

{I think I will break this part up into a couple more parts. I’d like to thank many others, but will stop for now.}

Featured Image Art: AI Image (created using Wonder AI)

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