back in the desert

morning sun in Tucson

There is sunshine, lots of it, and 2.75 cats to pet. It’s cold at night; the old ranch is drafty and I wear sweaters to bed. In the daytimes, I can garden, or work.

If I wanted to, I could walk up into the mountains, which are beautiful, and colder. No lizards.

photo by

Santa Catalina mountains, Tucson, photo by

It being the desert, there are badass American muscle cars on the road here of all vintage. I like to race them when it’s safe. There are always small moments. And everyone who drives sporty cars loves fun.

According to the rules of society and physics, this Challenger must keep his rocket in his pocket on a curved left turn start like this, but me, I can unleash my single stallion with smooth impunity on a clear green arrow.

dodge challenger

The boy driving this hot green delight (those TAIL LIGHTS slay me) just laughed when without overt hotdogging (this is important) I slipped past him like a blue fish in the straightaway, well done, butterfly.


I am still dreaming that I’m in Boston. I wake up, and I wait until the pieces fall into place, and I see which cat I am snuggling. Ah, Miss Fish. Tucson.

She helps me with my work. Right now, we are backing up and closing out 2014, and putting into place whatever we are clever enough to dream up to manage 2015 and make things easier, with fewer pieces of paperwork. Pieces of paperwork are what I hate more than anything in life. I stopped doing shows, so I wouldn’t have to file extra tax returns, fill out forms, sign contracts.

Years ago, in a similar January purge, I abandoned the mailing list I had always maintained. It used to be what made me successful, and it was huge. Now I don’t even keep one. Who sends anything by mail? Even email databases are pointless anymore, with everyone always changing their contact info. Bah.

Now, I only send orders, and only when ordered. I answer emails, but I don’t generate them, except in friendship. I don’t send postcards, or advertise. I try not to put a lot of signal out except what I post online and flash from my eyes on the street; there is a steady stream of it and people can look (or not) as they see fit.

Miss Fish IT Specialist

I tell Fish about the things I saw while I was away. She is interested, but still has no wish to leave the Ranch. I know how she feels. I often only leave it to get food; this is a world within itself, and I am happy here, if in a sort of stasis. Life happens outside these walls, generally, and is processed inside.

I had so much experience stack up inside me in Boston that I found that I didn’t even have room to put the experience of going into the giant Ball anywhere. It is still sitting on a shelf (and along with so many other huge moments) waiting for all of the skies, the bridges, the people, the places, the buildings, the moments, the everything of it all to soak down into my ground.

beautiful boston sky

Leaving was so odd. It was like only a piece of me was going; I could feel the space inside of the me that stayed behind. It was unclear how to process what was happening.

The plane was full, every seat. I remind myself, never fly on NYE again. New Year’s morning, those are great flights. NYE: no. I was surrounded by families, freaks, sitting next to a compulsive nail biter. So strange and unfortunate in very close quarters, such a long flight.

When we took off from Logan, I was outraged, even though I myself had booked and boarded the aircraft. So confusing.

leaving boston nye 2014

but I am happy and at home in my home base.

how do you play with your barbies

I am getting ready for a huge party, a three day party, a party a full year deferred. It will be both an official book launch, and a celebration of my newly seized independence.

All action figures, lampshades and cocktail mixing sets must be at full ready.


I feel so enchanted by everything around me.

In a way, I feel as if I am just waking up for the first time. I am so grateful that everything is fine, and I am so overjoyed that there isn’t anyone at this time who needs to pester me senseless. I know it can’t last; nothing lasts. But at this moment, no one is up in my face and the people who are in my life are all OK, there is lots of love, lots of potential for everyone to be happy, to do good work.

I feel intensely alive, thankful, aware.
And hopeful, as ever.

Always hopeful.



2 thoughts on “back in the desert

  1. Selfishly, I am kind of glad that you are back on my side of the world. ; ) Oy, a compulsive nail-biter sitting next to you on the plane, so sorry.

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