Caught in His Own Careless Wreckage

A year ago today I posted the first grid, I typed last night

Transitioning from ink and tablet journal keeping ended my ink and tablet self-portraiting because why? that's right, fuck me

some of those early grids hoowee and quoting from links like chum, chum, like you'll click for beg-me bait when you won't at basic bait

I miss writing in journals and still do on hikes when Earthgirl paints, but deciphering my handwriting and editing before comprehending when translating and typing into digital, unfuck me there, I could tap into simplenote on my phone on hike when Earthgirl painting it just occurred to me laugh out loud, when have lots of days to hike the next two weeks

I started tapping at simplenote in Summer 2020 and its limitations freed me with an archiving option tablets don't have - I can't do anything in it *but* type and tag then cut and paste and - here's the key - abandon knowing I reread it in a horrible sans serif font I can't change but can control + the screen so I can read it without squinting. I build the link grids in sheets, the part that's me typed in simplenote

The grid I realized an attempt to replace the ink and watercolor straight lines intersecting at deliberately just plus or minus 90 degree angles, once I discovered posting photos into grid cells didn't crash my free shitlord blogging platform but did allow just one post to front page at a time and the asshole in charge of brand marketing in my head said no can do

That's right, here's where I talk about Tony Hecht who taught me structure liberates, freedom constricts, I think this true, and though the haikus have dried up and I seem to be following no rules now and am content with content

In any case, I had no idea a year since I started gridding and never stopped and though hooweed through iterations but I see grids remaining until they don't, I can't imagine me thinking the bullets before the grid should replace the grid, I can't imagine my eyesight improving to when I desire a smaller font (push me)

I told a friend years ago the blog *is* the poem and still true

Asymptomatically Dead: the year in review

Schizmogenesis

Here's what we know, December 2021

Cold war liberalism, what is it good for?

Don't eat animals, but also don't eat Kellogg's (Morningstar Farm) fake animal product

The industry creating 1/3 of the world's waste

Code red, glacier blood, megadrought

Capitalists are dispensable, laborers are not

Nine don't miss environmental interviews from 2021

How to pray to a dead god

My favorite English language homophone pray/prey

Maggie's weekly links

{ feuilleton }'s weekend links

WALKING THROUGH A SPIDER WEB

Jeff Worley

I believed only air

stretched between the dogwood

and the barberry: another

thoughtless human assumption

sidetracking the best story

this furrow spider knew to spin.

And, trying to get the sticky

filament off my face, I must look,

to the neighbors, like someone

being attacked by his own nervous

system, a man conducting an orchestra

of bees. Or maybe it’s only the dance

of human history I’m reenacting:

caught in his own careless wreckage,

a man trying to extricate himself,

afraid to open his eyes.