I’m not dead

An entire month went by without updates–what gives?

We have disconnected the internet at home. Otherwise I am writing, but writing things that may not necessarily be the kinds of things that belong here. Either they’re too long or they’re too personal, or they’re too angry.

I’ve been meaning to address the blog on this issue for a long time.

I am not done here. It is better to return.

There were some difficult months and in those months the difficulty moved inside. I keep dreaming about my family dog, who was recently eaten by coyotes. That has not been the only death. But it is the death that I dream about.


  1. Holy shit – fucking coyotes?! Is this one of those art writing things you do where you’re a fat chick on the subway or is this for real? Man that’s fucked up. Condolences.

  2. Man that sucks but at least you can say you walked away with a great idea for your next project – a coffee table picture book titled “Fat Chicks of the Toronto Transit System”.

    Moody. Surreal. Plump.

    Don’t say I never did anything for you.

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