Sony Alpha 6300, Helios 40-2. 10/16/18, 10:59 AM.
Sony Alpha 6300, Helios 40-2. 10/16/18, 10:59 AM.
I’ve finally stopped fiddling with my 100D long enough to sit down and take a look at part 1 of a 2 part sequence called Deathwish! Now, this poem, Death6ish, started in a way I can’t remember at this moment, but it tumbled way out of control and found itself glassed with references to Destiny as well as a pretty neat 6-line set that punctuates the entire piece.
As usual, including link to the full poem, but we’ll also be looking stanza-by-stanza.
Stanzas 1 and 2:
“We planned out harvest
And we knew what we
I love August. August is when everything starts in Radio Reality City. It’s summery, and autumney, but not quite both yet. I’ve written about the feeling before, but not so well as I have in this poem.
So what have we here? Quatrains, with a single rhyme set in the latter stanza displayed here. This stanza sets the scene and also fleshes out the expectation for what I’ll be getting at. See, I can’t remember why I started writing this poem, but I know it was partially an exercise in visuals. I carry this theme heavily throughout as we’ll see.
“Yet this doesn’t feel like home
This endless sunshine and white
Clouds in the ocean blue”
Alright, here’s the introduction of the conflict. This very clearly lays out the discord between the speaker and the weather. The happy, summery weather, I might add. According to tropes, this could mean the speaker is uncomfortable with happiness. We also see a reiteration of the blueness of the sky, compared to the ocean this time. Pretty generic stuff in imagery there.
“We work with what we’ve wrought
When the weather rots
And clouds enrage
At the prospect
Of having not rained
These are the seeds we’ve got
Growing relicous vines and fruit
With a taste that makes cheeks hot
Against an autummnal chill”
Hey now, this is getting good. We’re introduced to the overall theme of the poem in that 6 w-word line, and then we see the personification behind it raining. Okay, cool.
We’re also now exposed to the idea of crop-rearing, and the word ‘relicous’ is thrown in there. I’m going to be perfectly honest, that’s not a word. It’s like the title, where I kinda make it out of the things one would expect root words could attached to.
In this instance, I’m treating the word ‘relic’ as an adjective. Very old vines and fruit that warms you up as you consume. At least I think that was my intention, because I don’t have the notebooks necessary to tell me if this was actually intentional on my part.
“These seeds that grip and root
Entrench and shoot
Through the dirt
And cobble rocks”
Still sticking with the quatrains so far, and this one implies the seeds from which that relicious fruit has grown. Little rhyme along AABC in this one.
“Cherry plot ploughshares
Beaten into swords to defend
Our fields from thieves
Looking to steal our bounty”
Now this stanza is a good one. This is the crux of the whole thing, the theme, the everything. It’s a good knock at the conflict here. Ploughshares beaten into swords in order to keep safe the crops. There is an enemy of some description.
Skipping ahead a few stanzas:
“Meadows in infras and yellows
And fierce copper fields
Rife with ripe-wroughts
Shimmering in somber breeze
We work with what we’ve wrought
More of that imagery I was mentioning earlier. And then we get a tercet playing off of our central theme. It’s autumn, the harvest is going well, and hell, we’re rhyming a little bit!
“When the wind cannot still
And our ploughs
Beaten back again will
Work the ground now colored
Charred and hazel”
Harvest is being harvested. There’s no need to fight at the moment, and we’ve really broken from the expected quatrains and now we’re entering the penta-dimension. We’re also keeping a rhyme scheme going here as we continue along, much more voraciously than before. ‘Still/ will/ hazel’.
Swords stand like gargoyles
In the eroding chill
Above a bounty of copper crops
Bearing delicious hot fruit
Our livelihood and sustenance
The month is over and now we’ve formed swords again to save the things we’ve worked to make. Vermillion was such a good choice, that line in its entirety ‘brave vermillion’ deserves its own poem. Copper, infra, reds, yellows, and straight up vermillion. It’s November now. Harvest is over.
“No matter what
Come bad crops
Or storms nonstop
Hell or high water
And we end with a note that echoes the references made above. We work with what we’ve wrought.
I had this poem introduced as part of the workshop class I had last year, and in it someone interpreted this poem to be of farmers in the modern day of some description. Where, I really only liked the imagery and needed a way to thread it together. This was one of those poems I wrote that initially had no meaning. As time has gone on, I’ve seen so much in this little world I’ve made.
Time is not measured outside of those months, so this could be anywhere on the world.
It also doesn’t mean that crops are the things that are literally being defended. I wanted this poem to invite as many personal interpretations as possible. Even the ‘brave vermillion’ could reference bloodshed. Doesn’t have to be an item being fought over. Could be ideas, sentiments, or perhaps something else entirely.
The title is the telling part. Deathwish with a 6 where the ‘w’ should be. To connote the 6 w-word line, but also just the word deathwish thrown in there. What does it mean?
That’s exactly what it means. If you work with what you’ve wrought, you have a deathwish. Then is it entirely a good thing that these people are fighting off thieves for their own good? Are they simply surviving? It opens up so many questions, but it also leads to the reason the title is such an oddball.
You don’t need to just survive. The folly is doing just that, working with what you have.
Maybe it’s the capitalist in me, but that must mean there can always be more included with what you have, and you should seek to take it. Though, the farming interpretation was a good one, it’s not what I was going for. Sorry, Larry.
This poem also has a sequel titled Deathw7sh II, along the same chords, but an entirely different direction. We probably won’t be rehashing that one until we get midway down the barrel. Death6ish also has a prequel, called 1eathwish. Which keeps the themes intact but sets them against a perspective looking more cynically on why this specific aphorism is a deathwish to follow.
There is also a follow up to the overall series in Autumnreach, meant to be a part of the overall story but from an entirely different point in the universe, but connects it to the Poikilothermal set. 1eathwish is one we might be getting to later on. I think it’s equally as, if not more, powerful compared to Death6ish. This universe also also connects up to the ‘Knight’ series. We’ll be exploring that much later.
Hope you’ve enjoyed this rehash. Death6ish is a bit of an anomaly where everything started very uncertain and fell into place to make something really meaningful.
Next up, we’ll take a look at Warsxzaw, a poem coming out of the November Era III, or November of 2016. This one also deals with rain, but it also deals with different eras and first dates. How exciting!
Shot with a Canon EOS Digital Rebel XS; f/22; 1/400; ISO-200; 18mm. 2/9/2018 1:19PM.
The sensors here are off the charts.
Whoa there, almost put a 17 at the end of that date instead of 18. That’s how my day’s gone. Every so often there comes one of those where nothing seems right and it seems like you’ve been asleep all day. Yeah, that’s been my day.
And I am self-aware enough to know that I bitch about it every time they happen and I feel useless because I’ve got this.
Incident report: the Monarch crashed today. I keep really underestimating its specs and today let it hit an errant tree branch. Thankfully only lost two propellers and some minor cosmetic damage sustained. It crashed in such a way that it snapped off the prop sections and also ejected the battery, so I couldn’t even have the seconds leading up to the crash on record because it didn’t save in time. Everything came out okay. But it looked awful. Propellers replaced, cosmetics touched up, and now I know not to fly it in my neighborhood again because of the low trees. I’m still reeling, to be perfectly honest. Sick to my stomach, actually.
As you may have seen in the video I posted last week, I have indeed flown it! Over open areas free of obstacles. In the snow. So we’ll be at pilot status yet. I’ve spent far too much money on it to be treating it irresponsibly in any manner. So this is an open apology to my own drone that I’m sorry for being a prick. I’ll make it better, I promise. I can even buy you new shells!
That section of the station will expand, but slowly. The Monarch must rest, and I must order more devices and plan more flights properly to get good videos of places I enjoy. That’s number two priority: make plans.
Broadcasts haven’t appeared because of the time it takes to record them is being burned by reading and writing poetry again lately. I’ve written a few more Days, just haven’t sat down to get them onto mp3s.
Let’s swing back around to the title of this journal: The Grind. Because it’s something that’s been in my head a lot lately and I constantly find myself questioning the purpose of making art that may or may not go appreciated. View counts and likes are great, but personal success looks a little different than that. It manifests as opportunity, I’d like to think, but clearly this grind is of a different kind.
I was at the University of Washington in Tacoma and was stopped by someone on a corner for how I looked. The man who stopped me had on a beanie, a stack of cards in his hand, and a guitar case on the ground beside him. He identified me as a “rocker” (sure?) and proceeded to tell me to check out his soundcloud, including a business card he must have handwritten out and had copied. No doubt he put some time into their production, but I simply became a part of his grind. This was his publicity. It struck me that I was targeted as part of marketing, whether or not he fully realized he was trying to typecast his audience.
I haven’t looked at his soundcloud, but it’s made me realize that I need to become more crafty with my marketing. In-person promotion is great for when you have physical objects, so does this mean I should hock my poetry somewhere on the street? Shall I become a walking merchant with oodles of literary collections to sell? Is it worth it? How will I know?
I won’t unless I try it. One think I’ve certainly failed to understand so far is the extent of my reach. I keep imposing self-limitations on the things that I do and the range of what I can go out and do. Performances? Posters? I keep thinking so digitally that I’m ignoring an audience that could possibly exist. Reach reach reach. Part of the grind.
I think the Monarch is a very good start. Once I get MUCH more confident with it and its ability, I will be able to take contracts as an aerial videographer. Acquiring equipment doesn’t mean you know what you’re doing yet.
And speaking of contracts, I’m in talks with a few local artists I know to do work-for-hire stuff and commissioned artwork based on poetry and stuff from Radio Reality City! Rejoining us will be the works of Grace Woods! Who had previously done drawings based on No Land Beyond, Mother of Invention, and a few others from Year One. She’s offered to update them, as I’ve asked to purchase the license to publish them somehow, and so far the results are staggering! I really hope to be able to show off some of her work soon.
I would also like to update all my readers on what’s coming in March…
Nothing! Nothing planned, anyways. March is going to be marked as a slowdown in content being released. I need a formal moment to not worry on publishing so much – daily, and maybe getting an actual schedule on when things are published. February has been lax on photography and journals, but big on poetry (as normal) and redesigns and operations on other platforms, and acquisition of the Monarch. I haven’t been writing enough poetry to keep up a constant feed of one new poem daily (at least I don’t think).
Here’s the plan for March: record more Days. Currently, that’s the bee in my bonnet that I’m irritated over my own inaction over. I got my Yeti microphone and immediately followed that up with Monarch anticipation. I need to pay more attention to audio to at least establish a routine for myself. I can’t just crank one of these out in the car, I have to sit down and record it very deliberately and edit it for a few hours to get it in a publishable state. Having permission from Kauf is an amazing thing, and I need to make use of that permission to make something he himself might be able to stand by.
I will still be releasing poetry, but not at a “new one a day” rate.
In March I will also try to draft up flight plans for the Monarch to get good videos of places I hold very dear.
Finally, I’d like to end with some hardcore self-promotion, if you’d indulge me so far.
I have a Patreon set up at https://www.patreon.com/thehostofrrc for those of you who would like to formally support me in building Radio Reality City. Currently there is a $1 option to simply give a few hours of life to the station, and a $5 option to gain access to every monthly publication I put out! This would include original artworks, poetry, and other stuff wrapped up in neat little PDF bundles (a perfect alternative to purchasing every collection separately). So if you do tune in, I urge you to please consider being a patron; it would allow me to invest directly back into creativity to only get more means to make with.
Alright, that’ll do it for me today. Lot of substance if I spread these journals out! Isn’t that funny, more time means more things happening to report back on.
Thank you all for listening, as always, and I hope this update keeps you all in the loop as to what’s going on around the station.
Radio Reality City!
We were to purge
But you were
A room with its
I was too late
Where the wild
My hair is getting to the point where it’s insufferably unruly. It’s at this point in its growing cycle where I have to either cut it ASAP or commit to growing it out. So I gotta get it cut soon.
I remember a year ago it was the last thing I wanted to do: cut my hair. For some reason I used my locks as something to identify with. I didn’t wear a cape like a superhero, people recognized me by my hair. I cut it last October to satisfy the job requirement to work at Green River College. What a farce that turned out to be. But it did one thing, which was crushed my mentality towards my long hair.
Google my name and I’m sure photos will come up that’s got my hair halfway down my chest. It was really really long. And I think all guys with long hair enjoy it until they cut it. Given a sense of perspective, I miss the days when my long hair looked fantastic, but that was a true rarity.
Now that it’s short again it’s easier to manage, and overall I definitely see the difference in aesthetic. I’d rather have it shortish than have it be longer.
Yet still it’s getting heavy on my head again and it needs a good cutting.
In news that isn’t about my hair, I’m trying to pick up on learning Japanese again! I took two years of it in high school to satisfy diploma requirements, doing myself a disservice by not actually learning much. So I’m trying to get back into it, and get conversational with Nihongo again.
So far I know how to say “I used to study Japanese, and I’m trying to again. I’m not good at it”.
All my bases are covered, going forward!
In news about writing (what everyone’s been waiting for, to be sure), I’ve put down another notebook as of this morning. My summerbook started on 6/1/17 has finally been able to rest on 9/18/17.
Just as well, as yesterday was the first day that Fall has socked in to the Pacific Northwest. Leaves are falling, there’s a slight breeze in the air, and it’s raining for the first time in months. I love it.
If you haven’t noticed by my content so far, autumn is my season. I’ve staked a claim to it and it doesn’t let up, comprising the bulk of my experiences and also being generally beautiful all the while.
Watashi wa ame o hai suke desu!
It’s also always raining in Radio Reality City. As cliched as that is a lot of my attempts of writing about rain are about making it a unique thing to me.
A long while back I wrote a journal that tackled some cliches, and that with things like them you need to personalize them for the piece of art their featured in. Such as with sex and death, the context surrounding them makes them mean more. This poem I’m currently working on is about grinding. You know, dirty dancing. Yeah, that. I’m trying to make that mean something different than what it is put, bluntly speaking. Can it be romantic? The moment’s personality is in the details just like when a storm is overhead.
Every instance of rain means something different than the one before. So many engrams in me turn out to have featured rain in some way. Mostly because it’s also always raining in Western Washington, except for summer when it’s not, which is why I dislike summer. I thrive in cold weather. Cold can be a cliche, too, and everything surrounding it. Winter, rain, snow, night, all need some personality to be effective in writing.
So what about writing, then? Where’s this excerpt coming from? No excerpt this journal. I’m still planning a feature to do where I deconstruct a poem bit by bit and maybe making those articles their own feature on RR.C. We’ll see!
But for now, talking about writing is doing some good. Lately I’m picking up and reading dictionaries again. Also this newfound interest in learning Japanese again is somewhat rooted in me wanting to extend my linguistics. I try to pepper in foreign words in some work, without really understanding what they mean.
Take for instance Sturm und Drang. An exotic and legendary weapon set in Destinty 2, but the root of their meaning lies in German poetry. Sturm and Drang, “Storm and Stress”, is characterized by greed, revenge, and taking action in the names of those things. Darker works, no doubt. But how could you apply it without knowing it?
It irritated me in my most recent writing class that everyone else effectively used literary terminology to describe things I was doing in my poems. Was my use of those things strategic and intentional if I didn’t know what they meant? They can’t be, right?
You can’t write what you don’t know, but the unuse of those things is interpreted by others to be a succussful usage. That seems to make a profound statement about the nature of art.
Thus, I’m addicted to knowing. A part of me thrives off of knowing there is something next to understand. When I’m given a ruleset, I want to know why the rules exist. Hell, I remember pre-college schooling sometimes the teacher would punish a whole class for one student’s actions. “If someone doesn’t so-and-so, you won’t be able to such-and-such anymore”. To me, that didn’t seem like the student doing something wrong, it seemed like the teacher punishing everyone.
One of the many things that’s happened that doesn’t make sense to me. This world is so concerned with being right that nothing is right at all. You won’t be able to please anyone, and I think a lot of people concerned with identity reject that they might be an outsider.
Self-awareness and knowledge go hand in hand. I like to think I’m a bit less up myself as I used to be two or three years ago, but how would I know? Is it still uppity of me to think that? Who knows.
Sometimes inaction can be the best action. Not thinking about it. Doing what’s next. That’s what I always say, but everything becomes greyer as I age. More things are relative to perspective than they are to me personally.
Today I feel like I’m stressed out for no reason. Good wake up, good everything, good dreams, good clothing, fine looking, just a storm and stress to make me feel like I’m not the best, which always sucks. I’m a firm believer that I’m the only person who would ever tell me that, so when I get compliments I tend to deflect them.
There’s a cold comfort in the thought that you can trust no one, but at the same time it’s rather immature to think that. You have to rely on people, otherwise you become the one concerned with identity, and then you’re an outsider to yourself.
Here’s to talking through an echo chamber once again. Been a weird day for me. A set of weird days. I hope this gets better soon.
Coming from Radio Reality City, the quencher and arbiter of Sturm und Drang. Thank you for tuning in, once again!
If you’d like to support my work, my poetry collection Olympia Nights is coming out on 9/21/17 for e-books on Amazon! Check it out!
And coming soon is news about Radio Reality City: Red Men, a collection about identify and autumn I’m submitting to Copper Canyon Press! Beta readers are enjoying it so far!
Have a lovely Monday, and once again, I thank you much for tuning in! Art is important! My hope is that Radio Reality City spreads some around to dissipate all the bad stuff!
I’m gearing up and putting together a manuscript for the Copper Canyon Press, due before Halloween! It’s a first ISBN-published book contest with a $3,000 prize and royalties. All poetry! Submissions are by way of manuscript. Which, to me, is good news. Publishing is something I’m good at, but only having to worry about content this time is good.
My plan of attack is to put together what is essentially a concept album. I feel like I’m really really good at being self-referential, so all the poems I’ve put in the collection I’ll submit call back to one previous in the collection. Also some original content written just for the theme of the collection: Red Men. If it doesn’t work out with this contest, you better believe you’ll see the collection in one form or another! I’m quite proud of it!
I’m having beta readers look through it to make sure everything that’s included is contextually sensible. That’s my one worry. I want it to seem like a concept album, but with words you can only do so much!
Speaking of publishing stuff, I’m needing to put together a small chapbook for that place in Tacoma to carry. And I need to talk to the people who run Anthem to see about if they’d be willing to carry some local poetry. I really hope that goes somewhere.
So what’s been going on lately outside of that? Well Rainbow 6 just dropped the Blood Orchid patch and it’s amazing. But aside from that?
The Pacific Northwest is still on fire. Oregon, North California, Western Washington, all burn once again and the sun’s turned red behind a haze of ash. I’m sipping coffee and looking at an orange sky outside my living room window.
I stopped by my former mentor’s classroom again. He got a new room! Super happy about it. Moved from a shitty little portable to a proper art room that’s maybe 6 times the size of what he used to have. Seeing progress even as I’m gone makes me happy.
Also yesterday made my first thrift store drop off run. A bunch of books and clothes are now entering the Value Village in Puyallup, straight from my room. Still so much to get rid of in preparation for moving. Me and my roommates are going to take a look at other apartments in our area, as we’ve recently stumbled across some other places that are comparable. Stuff’s moving forwards!
This journal’s excerpt will be from “Radcliffe Tea House”:
“When you pour
That breaks the rim
Of fine china where
Your lips meet
And invoke the dream”
In this poem, the goal was/is to reference Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and Alice: Madness Returns in particular, as much as possible. Jefferson Airplane’s White Rabbit will always be the one to beat when it comes to referencing Lewis Carroll, for many reasons including the era it was referenced in. This poem was actually written in a place I’m going to be bringing a publication to. A tea house! I didn’t know these places existed until I found myself in one. But the poem is about imagination and phantasm. I love it!
Today I’m continuing to listen to Deadmau5’s while(1<2), specifically the song “My Pet Coelacanth”. Nice repetitive track that rolls with its background. Check it out!
And in addition to checking that out, check out my main site if you’re seeing this on the reader! https://radioreality.city. It’s where all of my bread and butter is!
I’d like to close this journal with talking about some things that I’ve been thinking about lately. Humanity. I know, what a broad fucking umbrella topic, Jake, did you use that one to get around a shitty high school essay prompt?
I’ve been thinking about people and the animosity that can prevail when communicating over the internet. I’m not talking about cyberbullying (loosely and improperly used term these days). I’m talking about people representing themselves in a really awful way by being pricks.
Everybody is entitled to the first amendment. Freedom of speech and the press is something I take a lot of pride in. As far as measures go, that is one thing that makes me proud to be born in America. That’s also the absolute most patriotic I will ever be. But I like free speech a lot. It’s my first love!
But people can be savage when they are given a security blanket in not confronting someone in person over something they normally would when they’re talking online. Take for example a situation me and my dad found ourselves in last night while playing the new patch for Rainbow 6 Siege.
Now something about this game for those not in the know: it’s a round-based tactical shooter. You die easily and deaths are permanent for the round. 5 vs. 5, best of 5 rounds wins. We’ve been playing this game since it came out, and I stream it as much as I can on my Youtube channel. We have a lot of fun with it, playing in a 5 man squad with other family members. It’s a good time even though the game can be frustrating.
Smash cut to last night. Just me and my dad playing the new patch, and we’re in the middle of a firefight (with 3 other teammates the game found for us). My dad blasts in the direction of an enemy, and a teammate walks in front of his gun while shooting at the same enemy. My dad gets credited for the kill on the enemy, and also kills our teammate. Knocked out for the rest of the round until the dust settles.
As soon as the round ends, and we jump into the game to start the next round, the guy my dad accidentally killed turns and shoots my dad. Intentionally. Before any enemies are even near. So I start messaging him asking why he did that, and the consensus was he didn’t care and was retaliating. He didn’t care.
There’s just something about taking someone else’s experience and dragging it through the mud for no other reason than he didn’t care. This attitude can be found in any place that isn’t a physical world interaction. It’s somewhat troubling. “I’m gonna take this fun thing and make it not fun for you”. I don’t understand it and I’ve always rallied against it in the name of utilitarianism.
After some point of messaging this guy, he says to me that I’m taking this way too seriously. Made me laugh. Maybe I am. But you know, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with trying to let everyone have as good a time as they can, right?
Anyways, just something that’s been on my mind. I’ve been interacting with people like that more and more lately, all using their real names or easily traceable aliases. It worries me that people are going to allow themselves to be represented like that. And continue to with no regard for self-awareness. You’re completely free to represent yourself however you’d like, but it seems that when a majority of people are given internet access and social media accounts they’re more apt to be pricks than much else. Personally, I’m quite vain and I know that!
Identity and representation is concerning to me. As is the theme of my collection being submitted to Copper Canyon Press: Red Men.
More news to come!
In the meantime, thank you for tuning in to Radio Reality. City! Feel free to wander the archives, put in some comments, even subscribe if you like what you’ve heard so far! We can only get better the more we write!
Shot with a Canon EOS Digital Rebel XS; f/5.6; 1/80; ISO-400; 50mm. Duct tape and cardboard, penned with sharpie, mounted with a safety pin.
Art made for art’s sake. In the midst of a punk phase, what kind of meta reference would I make? This one.
Shot with a Canon EOS Digital Rebel XS; f/5.6; 1/80; ISO-400; 18mm
Paper-mache and wire. Black and gold spray paint. Lots of newspaper.
I’m listening to “Thursday in the Danger Room” by Run the Jewels, this Monday morning. A lot of words are resonating with recent events and I’m finally having time to figure out what I’m thinking these days. Maybe this housesitting thing this weekend isn’t so bad after all. Just jarring.
True to form, I was able to make a poem out of Friday night, a follow-up to what I’m told is a legendary Virgo Olympus. Which itself already has a follow-up in Abstergo Invictus. This new one, Inferno In Stillness, is a direct sequel, not inspired by. This is following the same story as Vexillology, and all the rest that describe Olympia.
This journal’s excerpt will be from Inferno In Stillness:
“The cult of sorrow has
Captured the experience
Played by records, this
Inferno in stillness
Reality City in cinders
But breathing into morning
Still the city is alive
And I too am, once again
Maybe donning a new brand
But bringing to my face a hand
And listening to the jingling
Memories that made these things”
I specifically reference Virgo Olympus’s last lines in the first quatrain here. Immediately following is a reference to Murmur. There’s enough poem to call it an epic, I think. It’s all about recursion and is an artistical sorting out of the thoughts in my last journal that fragmented across three days, as I tried to collect myself.
Thirty minutes before I get to go to work and be in an environment where I don’t worry. Where I’ll write again now that this mythic subject is overcome.
This inspirational streak hasn’t run dry yet, and I’m going to run this fucker into the ground. The problem with being motivated to create is that you normally can’t turn on the tap and just make something that means anything. But, the counter to not being able to create whenever you want is to absolutely take the opportunity by the throat and bash it against the wall until you get all that you can out of it. You take it and go. These are the times where you really need to sit and go at it, while the energy is there. With that energy, you make art because it means something, not for the sake of making art.
As such, I’ve finally collected a few poems I’ve been writing this month and finally put a period on them, finalizing and archiving them.
You may have noticed lately that my publishing schedule has been hectic. I’m hoping one day I can publish my stuff at the rate of a calculating corporation, but the truth is life gets in the way. I have points I want to hit and deadlines I want to meet, but I can’t do that sometimes. Sometimes I make an impromptu trip to Olympia, am out until 2 AM, and have to pull a double shift at work the next day after four hours of sleep.
Radio Reality City is my last bastion if anything else fails. If wordpress tanks, I will buy my own servers and pay the monthly costs to keep this all online. I’m not losing it. As far as publishing goes, there is always a want to regularly create and put it out here.
Needless to say, it’s been quite an anomalous week.
Hopefully, we’re back to regularly scheduled programming!
If you’re new or just visiting, welcome! And if you’ve been here since the beginning, I hope this clarifies some things! I’m trying to be more transparent, but also want to start publishing articles that include the processes and inspirations behind some of my writing. What would help other creators create? Please let me know in the comments below! I want to be a helpful outlet, as well as an artistic one. I can be pretentious, but I want to be practical, too.
Happy reading, everyone, and happy Monday! Go listen to “Thursday in the Danger Room”!