Settler writer/musician, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming in 2020, Hair Sinister after that. ————- LAND BACK . @TheCorrection on twitter.
As of this month I am collecting a pension. I certainly FEEL old enough to be collecting a pension, and I’m pleased and somewhat proud to have managed to get this old. THANKS FOR THE AWESOME EPIGENETICS FoLKS
Today I have a long, long to do list but I’ll keep it to myself, since I likely won’t get to half of it. Three letters stamped and ready to go, including an extra-long whiny one with bonus ART in it for mOm.
I think today I will be more household chore oriented and a little less on the creative side – wrote four soundtrack chunks yesterday with names like KOI POND IN RAIN, SUSPICIOUS FUNERAL MUSIC, TELECOM #2 and THE REALIZATION. If I can figure out how to record them – Anthony will likely help if I can’t arrange it – they will end up on this site in the fullnews (nice typo!!) of time.
Twitter this morning was so full of white people being assholes that I quit doomscrolling early to come here to complain.
Ah. Clem, an ex of Sandra’s, of many past posts, has a beautiful property close to Barry’s Bay Ontario. Walking around it was one of the most glorious things that ever happened to me. I mean what kind of a crazy ass dude plants 5 acres of milkweed for the butterflies??? Yes. And there were geese, and a lake full of water lilies and loons calling, and gardens, and weathered barns, and weathered local painted advertising signs, and weathered farm equipment lavished round the joint. It was honestly like a tourist trap with a thousand exquisite views for painting and photography, except there were no tourists and it wasn’t a trap.
Although Sandra and I are no longer on speaking terms and likely could not be reconciled (racism and conspiracy theories and me being a stuck up jerk, among other things, divide us) I have a very happy recollection of her just leaving me be and making supper while I composed this in her living room. I have very rarely been as happy with an instrumental composition as I was when I wrote it, and nothing that’s happened since has changed my mind.
Entertainingly I have ANOTHER song with the name Clem in it, but it’s a Buffy filk, and that comes later. Anthony recorded this on the 4th of January inst.