Happy 20th Anniversary

To my panic attacks. It was 20 years ago this summer my life changed forever and never again would I be the man I once was. I realise now and have accepted the the numerous friendships it has cost me, the potential friendships it has cost me, the personal creative freedom to do what “I do.”  There is one hellish price to marching to the beat of your own drummer, though it doesn’t have to be. I guess it just depends on what type of family you have and what sort of support system you have in place.

Twenty fuckin’ years lost. Tho it hasn’t been all bad. There was a time I managed to get some great art from it ~ Brian, Danny, Amber & Damien- I love & miss you guys so much it hurts. I hope one day soon we can meet up, catch up. And just enjoy hanginging out. I’m a mess guys, I need you.

You know the ironic thing in all of this was when the panic attacks hit & I didn’t know what they were, it was so bad my grandparentnts pleaded with me to see a shrink & they’d pay- they were that concerned. My response then was, ” Absolutely not. They’ll put me on dome addictive drug and at some point I’ll have to come off the pill & I’m back st square one.  FF 6 years of drastic change and I was crying for Valium. I’ve never had any issue with tranquillisers because I’ve never abused them and I just don’t think my chemical make up leans that way. The yo yo of inconsistent therapy was more harmful than the underlying issues for my anxiety which I’m only recently being given very short glimpses of.

So much wasted, so much lost…It didn’t have to be this way, Valium could have prevented these situations from happening. But THEY don’t want you having it- in the long run they profit more off the heart disease, and other diseases constant anxiety causes. I often wish I’d been aborted.

Damn I wanna grab my B.C. Rich doubleneck bich axe, crank it & the tunes & just rock the fuck out 🤘🏻


There’s a really neat club called Artsnacks you can find at http://www.artsnacks.co  and I’ve been looking at it for a long time. I did some zentalngling a few years ago and tried to get into drawing, it’s just not my discipline. But I love the idea of the monthly box coming to your door with a surprise of several art supplies.


Does anyone know if there’s something similar for calligraphers/fountain pen users? Not sure what they could include…going by Artsnack, I’d say maybe a couple dip nibs, a tube of gauche to mix for callighrphy “ink”, sampling of new papers for fountain pens, maybe  a 1 or 2 ml. ink sample. I dunno, just seems like it’d be nice if we had our own thing as artists do. The funniest thing being I’m putting myself in with calligraphers-I’m trying to do it but will never get very good at it given the circumstances I’m forced to live under in this Nazi Amerika.

Gloomy, Stormy day

I got up and fed my cat as usual then went back to bed (well, it was 3.30 AM-she’s got a bum thyroid) and listened to some creepy stories on youtube then decided at 5 to just get up. Couldn’t wait to get cracking at the pen but not right out of bed.

AS the day has worn on, I’ve done this. Have another in the works. Not what I’d really call calligraphy but it’s a lot better than what I was doing before I decided to get serious about penmanship. Hook or by damned crook I will get this before I die.

The lyrics are written in Dr.Ph Martin’s Radiant watercolour. I got so many of these a while back and love them but I can’t really pain watercolour. Unfortunately,they feather on this paper where fountain pen ink wouldn’t. I just don’t own any red fountain pen ink (aside from Diamine Oxblood). Since I deleted my Flickr in a fit of rage I guess this is all I have to gauge my progress now.




It’s no secret that I can’t sleep so along with my usual routine of sleeping medication, I listen to ASMR to help lull me off and it works. In June I found this man who had a glass dip pen and some ink. Long story short, I began buying fountain pens like they were going out of style. Along those lines I began seeing different styles of script and fell madly, hopelessly head over heels with Spencerian Script.

Off I went on my new journey of getting away from the computer and using my hand more to improve my penmanship. I found transcribing songs a good way to work on penmanship, as well as copying famous quotes and lines of poems. So while my own hand is actually imp[roving, the shit they forced on us in school D’Nealian or some such junk over FORTY years ago I’m still having a hell of a tie trying to rid my hand of the girly roundness of it. Looks like bubble letters and I don’t like it. Part of what attracted me to Spencerian is the sharply angular look of it. It just looks beautiful. Had we been given a choice (see, we’ve never been free as people even tho we thought we were) would, without a doubt, have chosen Spencerian.

It’s been fun but frustrating trying to teach myself from a few books I have. I found  a class but have yet to hear back any constructive criticism from the instructor or anyone in the class. So I’ve been doing my own thing. Not getting me any closer but at least I’m putting the expensive tools to use. There’s a handful of calligraphers in my area, none teach…so how the hell do you lean to do this properly and beautifully when they don’t even teach penmanship in school anymore?  I don’t like virtual classes, I’m beyond red up with “virtual life” and I need a REAL live, breathing, human instructor with me to tell me when I’m doing good and when I’m fucking up. AM I the only one who thinks the minuses far outweigh the benefits of the internet? It has ruined interpersonal relationships, it is ruined the shopping experience as we knew it (THANKS AMAZON), nobody talks anymore.

Oh and I finally got some answers on my dad. Not only does he have dementia he also has cancer of some sort-not sure if he got the results back, dr .was thinking lymphoma of some sort but cant’ be sure. Father is 80 and in denial (TOTAL denial) so I don’t know if he’s been told. I need Valium as I’m ready to slit my writs from elbow to wrist and no doctor is going to give me Valium. Don’t you love how we get treatment ONLY if they profit from it? There is not ONE SINGLE DOCTOR walking this planet who can look me in the eyes and tell me why I can’t have it…NOT ONE. And I will challenge any of these bastards to think up their most creative…the bottom line is 20 years I’m left ot suffer because they don’t profit off of it and they use the blanket excuse “It’s addictive’ NO IT IS NOT IF USED RESPONSIBLY.  I wish every single doctor suffer HALF of what I experience  every single day of my life…WEITH NO RELEIF…can’t have their doctor friends writing them scripts for benzos because they can and do…SUFFER LIKE I AM then tell me if you still think Valium’s  abad idea. They’re not saving me from anything, they’ve pushed me to suicide. I can barely focus on penmanship in light of recent developments. This is CRIMINAL what they’re forcing me to endure with no relief. CRIMINAL.

Here’s what I did this morning. Not sure it makes any difference to someone who doesn’t do this but used an oblique nib holder, Brause Rose nib and Dr. Ph Martin’s Scarlet Radiance watercolour. (NO NOT PUT THERSE IN A FOUNTAIN PEN)

The Needle Lies

A Purple Farewell

I don’t have much to say, I’m still in shock. BIG part of my teen years gone. Words can’t describe. Went to see Purple Rain last Sunday for the last time. I wasn’t letting the final chance pass to see on the big screen once again. As good as the movie is, tv doesn’t do it justice. It NEEDS a big screen.  Funny, my folks divorced 33 years ago and I spent many a night curled up watching Purple Rain. Prince was the only one who could soothe my pain. It felt like going to a funeral, I got to say my goodbye. 32 years prior I was getting ready to see it fir the first time, then not long after I found myself at the Purple Rain tour. There is only sadness and pain right now.

Purple Goodbye

Vicious Cycles

So my birthday was Monday and things were pretty decent. Nobody made a big deal out of it and I appreciated that as I don’t really do birthdays anymore, they freak me out at almost a half century old. Then, as usual, the following day had a blow out with my father as he was hovering over me while I was trying to get my dinner prepared so I ended up throwing it all out and not eating. I may have had an english muffin later in the evening. He used to do this to my mother with her mail and other things after the divorce as this is when the shit really hit the fan and he had FAR FAR FAR too much free time on his hands. He went to visit her (they divorced when I was 15) once and went though her purse looking for god knows what when she ripped it out of his hands. Bottom line is his ego is incredible, he didn’t even get it when she snapped at him and snidely asked if he found what he was looking for. TOTALLY unphased, he said yeah.

So I’ve been pretty non-functional al week as my anxiety is in the stratosphere. How is it someone can be SO bored for 2 decades+ and not realise it after all that time? Most people will eventually show signs of some degree of agitation after a prolonged period of boredom-not my father.  I always say I’m never going to speak to him again after this sort of shit goes down but he’s 80 and I feel guilty and bad so I start talking again and the cycle repeats. It sounds awful but I just cannot allow my self to care anymore. *I* am the one getting injured her, chipped elbow, huge bruise on my knee, I’ve suffered a second degree burn on my wrist, all this has aged me well beyond my years (for years nobody has or ever will see a photo of me that I don’t heavily edit in Photoshop in), I sleep no more than 3 1/2 hours a night, often have severe panic attacks. Anybody who suffers severe anxiety understands what goes on. I have also lost an incredible amount of things to the aggression my anxiety takes. it has been a frustrating, expensive odyssey. And it has destroyed my ability to write so yet another book I had started remains unfinished at page 81 and will do forever.  I started it 9 years ago. I’m not the same man I was at that point, my head is not in the same headspace it was, my confidence has been broken even more since then. I have tried writing separate chapters as individual short stories and hoping I could link them back into the book but even that isn’t working out. This is fucking criminal. I don’t belong here, I belong among creative people. I can’t do this merry-go-normal shit, never could, not even as a child.

Anyway, I managed to get an OESD free standing lantern stitched out last week. Really love this, much larger than I thought it would be. This is the first of this sort of project iv’e successfully completed and even at that, it could use some improvement. I got most of it done last Wednesday when I had realsied I forgot to stitch out 2 more sides to make the hexagon shape to fit the base so I did those 2 extra panels. Had to re-do the top as well as the hexagon is somewhat smaller than the square lanterns. Initially it was slightly damp when I constructed it so it was ok but the remaining pieces were attached 2 days later when it was all bone dry and some of the button holes stretched out really bad to get the alligator clamp through to pull the tiny buttons through. Next time I’ll make sure I have all the necessary pieces and double check it all so it can all be constructed while it’s damp.

Have been having my life flashing before my eyes lately, different shit I recall from teenage yeas and later. Some of it is questions I’ve long been trying to figure out. As the years progress, some of this insight iv’e been searching for for so long becomes clearer and the puzzle pieces fall into place. Not sure the other aspect of why this is happening but it scares me.

So I sit here listening to a great album by this elusive group, Woolfy vs. Projections. Awesome mood music, very relaxing. I actually did stumble upon some info on them about a year ago. I first heard them shopping for furniture. The song was Abysynth from The Return of Starlight. This was one time I was thankful to have a smartphone, I was able to Shazam it and find out who it was. Then added it to my Spotify playlist.

So here’s the lantern. I have more fabric to make 3 more. Lucky me 🙂  These are an incredible amount of work but really cool when done. When I get another cone of black thread, I’ll do another. I have blue, red and gold organza for the others. Supposed to be a tealight to illuminate them but the head on my tripod was destroyed during a fight so I can’t use my DSLR to take it and the iPhone takes lousy photos at night.


Short One

For now. More later.  Saw this again on GoodReads by author Elizabth Lynn Casey. Used to be a big MeMe list site years ago I can’t find anymore, I enjoyed doing them.


1) Last book you read?

   Lita Ford Living Like A Runaway

2) Strangest place you’ve ever read a book?

   Curled up with a lantern in the corner of my closet when I was a child. The book was The Letter The Witch and The Ring by John Bellairs. I still read that series to this day. 

3) If you could have access to only one book for the next twelve months, what would you choose and why?

     Wow this is a tough one, umm, maybe the Codex Seraphinianus. Why, because it’s very weird, very surreal,  very thought-provoking and as indecipherable as it is, it does make some sort of unconscious sense to the subconscious…if that makes any sense at all. The book inspires me. 

4) Have you ever peeked?

      Of course 😉