Monthly Archives: August 2020

Struggling a little with this one today. Truth is, virtual never really appealed to me.

Nope. Kinda all about keeping it real. And now I’m living in a time where that is simply not possible.

However, I also feel it’s imperative to get with the program if one wants to stay on track. And I do, I really do.

Therefore I’ve been trying to find a rhythm in this strange, new world. For me that looks like more sleep, too much alcohol (as much out of boredom as anything else) and a certain malaise of spirit. Those are the negatives. But, because I am determined to also make the best of this, I am getting to the studio almost every single fucking day. And I’m still walking up the five flights of stairs. In fact, I almost look forward to it–those stairs. They represent some sort of accomplishment of will. Evidence that even given my transgressions (sleep, alcohol, too much time on the internet) I am still committed to becoming stronger, better, more determined.

I am. But as 2020 has all the structure of a house dress, that isn’t easy.

Thank whomever one thanks if an atheist that I have a dog. Kumo keeps me on some sort of schedule. He will be walked three times a day, whether or not I feel like it.

And I am doing a damn fine job of feeding myself, credit to Blue Apron.

But it would feel so incredibly nice to hug someone. There is nothing virtual about touch.

Nothing. In the bigger picture this is a positive. I mean, how sad would it be if human contact could be replaced by something virtual.

So so sad. And therefore I shall wait. Until that moment when we can take off our masks and get real, really real, yet again.

xo

Some months ago my oldest son August forwarded a text message he had received from one of his employees:

‘Its been awhile since I met some like you. Your work ethic is impeccable. Which means whoever raised who was a Beast. Embrace the suck…it’s what made you.’

I loved every word of it, and the way it captured both so much of who my son is as well as his experience.

My kids have not had an easy time, any of them. And yes, I was the ‘Beast’ who raised them although I told August that even though I don’t usually like to share credit, he should send the message to his stepfather as well.

August has embraced the suck, and now he’s prospering. His mama couldn’t be happier or prouder.

My own persistent suck is uncertainty, and I not only embrace, I hug the hell out of it; or rather if.

If. the two letter version of uncertain. Another incredibly impactful word.

My favorite definition is the second one, as I had to read it several times before it made sense.

If looms large in my life. I was discussing financial security with a friend yesterday and said to him ‘If I die, everything is going to be fine,’ and then we both laughed.

It does solve some problems–dying. But it is not the solution I am looking for. If is better–it has wiggle room and possibility.

Of course, if I want to stay, embracing the suck is not sufficient. I am also going to need to work my ass off.

And I’m ok with that.

xo

I had an interview yesterday where I was asked about places I have travelled to and which was my favorite.

My response was that it was the last place I had visited, and that I took the same approach to my art. My most recent painting/artwork is my favorite.

There is something inherently practical about this approach and I feel it has to do with momentum. Although I am always pleased, I am never quite satisfied. And therefore, I continue to explore. To create. As the Talking Heads said (so wisely), Stay Hungry (And skip the ad. I love me some Joe, but I loathe advertisements).

So yeah. The best is yet to come. I fervently believe that.

I am fortunate that not only am I good friends with my oncologist Alice Shaw, but also her husband Stan. Our relationship is professional but we are also just simpatico. The Stan and Linnea show (my presentations through Harvard Medical School’s Executive Education Department) are just so much fun. There is no one I’d rather be on a dais with than Stan. He has this way of making each of our interactions feel as if it is the first time we’ve spoken. That fresh.

Anyway, I had something to share with Stan yesterday. And in my text to him I added this trivial fact: ‘Tell Alice I can’t die now as it’s just (my life) getting to the interesting part 🙂‘

And I really do believe that. The best is yet to come.

I just need to be there.

To keep showing up.

xo

You know I love OK. It is a two syllable word that is unto itself. Nothing more, nothing less. Kind of the golden mean of language. Universally used and accepted.

As a fifteen year plus survivor of lung cancer, I can tell you that it is, again and again, more than enough.

Yes. Once upon a time I viewed life differently. BC (before cancer) and AD (after diagnosis). Please ignore any perceived blasphemy.

No harm, no foul. OK.

I now love life life unconditionally. That’s right. Whatever shit it hands me, as long as I’m still standing, we’re in a functional relationship.

Not gonna argue that this was a survival strategy. My fairy tale version of existence was a fail. But because I am dedicated to surviving, I made some adjustments. It’s all good.

Of course, I have faltered. Depression and mouth sores almost took me down. Well, that and a pandemic. But fucking A, I rallied.

And now I feel it’s important to reinforce what I truly believe. We humans are going to be ok.

Not necessarily the world we once knew. There is going to be pain. And loss. At times we are going to feel as if we can’t go on.

But then we will. Go on.

O

K

xoxo

If you are a woman, there’s a very good chance that you, at one time or another, have been lying on a table in a paper johnny with legs akimbo and your feet in stirrups as a gynecologist gets ready to put their fingers in your poontang while also murmuring, ‘Just relax.’

Um, yeah, right.

Those with male genitalia cannot even begin to relate until the snap of the latex glove with that first prostate exam, generally around age 50.

But women, we get started young.

It is useful, in the sense that one becomes adept at separating body from mind. It is also ludicrous, but not exactly clear who the joke is on.

Kind of like now. A didn’t see this coming compendium of all of the above.

In addition to the ongoing pandemic, it’s been hot. Fucking hot. A concerned friend insisted on buying an air conditioner for me. Said appliance was delivered last Saturday and my friend Jim was going to help me install it.

However, the goddess who watches Kumo while I am being infused had been running a low grade fever. Out of a sense of responsibility she contacted me and also scheduled a COVID-19 test for Tuesday. I told Jim not to come.

I was supposed to go on a date that evening (social distancing observed) but out of my own utmost of caution, I cancelled. Don’t want to be spreading that shit around.

Well, my friend the goddess got tested and then found out yesterday that they had spilled her sample in transit. So she was retested. In the meantime, my clock is still running. It shall be interesting to see if the COVID results are returned before my self-imposed-extra-super-cautious two week quarantine ends.

In the meantime, it’s still bloody hot, though thankfully, not as hot as yesterday. And I do have an air conditioner. In a box 🙂

But me? I’m just chilling. You know, relaxing. When the world hands you a dumpster fire, toast marshmallows.