I. Evening one of my tiny little break from *waves at all of this* began with many hours of feeling totally at loose ends while watching true crime documentaries on YouTube. I made myself stay up late like I might if I was on vacation. Rolled myself into my blankets at around 2 a.m. but still woke up at 8 a.m.


II. Got up with every intention of doing nothing but ended up adding the edited instructional videos to the Journal Jam Weekend Workshop because I couldn’t figure out what else to do with myself.

It’s okay, though. I rather enjoyed it.

III. I just need to take some pictures of the completed new Journal Jam deck and the workshop is ready to be released into the world as as teacher supported self-guided experience. I’m so glad to have proven to myself that these weekend workshops are worth doing, both for my students and for myself.

IV. I had a nap and it was glorious. I even got REM sleep and remember a part of my dream where a friend tucked me in and kissed me on the forehead. Unbearable sweetness. Apparently some part of my subconscious loves me.

V. I’m planning another weekend workshop for the end of September called “Out Of The Shadows”. I want to work with the stuff that’s lurking in our murky bits, and make art as medicine for that stuff using silhouettes as traceables/masks to create rich mixed media art pieces.

Like this:

I’ll be announcing registration soon. If you’re into it, subscribe to my newsletter to get notified. 

VI. This made me laugh out loud:

Image of Baby Yoda that reads: When someone tells me they do their laundry and put it away in the same day. WITCHCRAFT.

VII. I have lost my house elf to full time employment, but I am handling everything okay myself. I am proud of that, but I’m not going to lie. I miss having the help. I may hire a new one as soon as I figure out what we’re doing with GG (a la moving him to London so I don’t have to hop in an Uber in the middle of the night with zero notice when he’s in crisis). He’s down with this plan, by the way, and loves the idea of Sunday dinners with mom resuming once more as well as access to the fur babes, who he thinks of as his pack. Rents for what he needs aren’t that bad here, but it is still something I’m going to have to crack open the bank of mom for, so I’ll hold off on the house elf until all of that is sorted out.

VIII. How in the sweet purple fuck am I almost 53? Where does the time go? What is even happening?

IX. I have wine and appetizers on a patio planned with a new (girl) friend tomorrow and I’m pretty excited about it. Who am I anymore?

X. I am going to try and do nothing for the rest of the day. Wish me luck!

I’m blogging every day (ish) in September and you’re welcome to join me. 


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