Category: The Alchemy of Becoming
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The Medium Is The Message Of The Sunday Sabbath
A dirty little secret I’ve learned from that quiet voice behind the curtain in my mind is that I have no clue what I’m doing, and everything good I make is actually coming from a much deeper reserve. I’m just the figurehead.
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Exit
I’ve been a square egg on a brown knoll my whole life. I’ve never fit, and it’s never fit me. But oh, how I sanded edges here, sharpened curves there. Sawdust and metal shavings, blood and picked scabs, and a z-shaped scar…
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On Structured Fluidity and Off Ramps
With no structure I’m a boneless chicken, a gelatinous being, Speaker of the House. But with too much structure I’m Hannibal Lecter on a hand truck. I live in the gray area. That gray area can be the bane of my existence, but like most challenging fields, there’s treasure buried in the muck.
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The Psychosomatic Pretzeline State Of Neurodivergence
The intricate relationship between autism and ADHD presents a unique neurodivergent experience termed AuDHD. This phenomenon reveals a struggle between the desire for structure and the need for novelty, leading to a “pretzeline state.” This state embodies the turmoil of psychosomatic distortions, yet within it lies the potential for creativity and growth, reflecting the complexity…
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The Beetle In My Box
Sometimes I feel more alone than alone. Because no matter who is around The beetle in the box is suffocating. So I open my head to let him breathe.
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Forging the Strohax
The alchemy of the linguistic stim. I once read a piece by Grant Morrison on Chaos Magick and creating a sigil. Morrison is a modern-day shaman, a psychonautic genius who channels profound truths into the two-dimensional universe of the graphic novel. I read his piece as part of a compendium by a group called Disinformation.…
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The Long Dark Compartment Syndrome of the Soul
Do I tell this story? Should I tell this story? Have I already told this story? Forgive me… this year has been a lot. In addition to the malestrom of late-stage capitalism’s decline into oligarchy, I’ve been spelunking the depths of my own personal cave. Dante wasn’t kidding when he told of “rings of hell”…
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On Low For 8 Hours
“If you slow-cook the same soup on low for 8 hours for 30 years, what will you end up with? I became a teacher because the braise was causing my meat to fall off the bone. I was tender… but gelatinous.”
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The Teacher With A Thousand Faces
The dramatis personae of any school is enriched and enlivened by a healthy variety of demeanors. If my intention was only to diminish those “unlike” me, I would be simultaneously devaluing their contributions along with my own. What makes us unique is often what makes us great. I have become the teacher I am today,…
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Ceci n’est pas une école
If I had my way (and I probably never will in this regard), I wouldn’t burn books—knowledge is sacred. But I would take every piece of bureaucratic, gatekeeping, money-making crap from the College Board industrial complex, pile it in the center of an empty field, and surround it with sage. I would light the sage,…