Decades

From Chapter Eighty-one: A narrow escape & a discouraging word...

My good friend Bob Ray, author and artist of the Cap'n Haphazard comics and axeman extraordinaire, brought up something that’d slipped past me in my focus on 2019's end. This was also the finito of a decade – an action packed one for both of us.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, it was one hell of a decade. I ain’t gonna lie, it was a hard one. A mean one. I won’t miss most of it.

I lost too many people. Too many friends. Martita, Marie, Cliff, Tom Harker, Grace Kitty, Tiger, Al, Grandma Lowe, John, Shep, Thomas Spurgeon... and those are just the ones I knew best. Too many. I miss them all every day.

I watched the world go from “hey, we’re in a lotta trouble, but maybe we can start fixing it” to “we all hate each other and it’s all on fire, so what’s the point?” I don’t really know where we’re headed from here, but I try to remain hopeful, because I’m stupid like that.

There were good things, too. I started drawing comics again. I played a lot of music. I made a lot of new friends. I remarried my wife Melissa on our 25th anniversary. I had a heart attack, which was no damn fun, but it was ultimately a good thing, because it made me lose 10 pounds and start thinking about the value of every day.

So, I’m 10 years older. I lost some folks and I made new friends. My body gave me a wake up call that I’m still figuring out how to heed. I have a realistic view of the past, utter disappointment with the present, and irrational hope for the future

Happy New Year, everybody. 2019 can kiss my ass. To hell with the Teens. Bring on the Twenties.

Be good to each other, I love you all. ❤️
~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m also light more than a few loved ones due to life flames being extinguished OR phenomenally cold, indefensible actions.

Losing The Amazing Bob was a devastating nuclear blast to my soul that felt unendurable. With the calm, loving and constant support of friends, family (Jen, Oni, Celeste and Daddy!) as well as the wise words of those who’ve walked this path through wretched misery before me (Michal, Maria and Ten) – I made it.

There’s been my personal health bullshit – eye, bean and back.

The Cyclops – Odilon Redon

It occurred to me this morning, as Ten helped me put the PROSE lens in, that, without his devoted assistance each and every day, y’all may very well be calling me Cyclops Donna now.

Speaking of Ten, I discovered that my life has a second act – with TAB’s death I’d NOT entered my denouement after all. There is still joy to be had – multiple joys in point of fact!

And while my hand/eye coordination has been banjaxed by that cretinous interloping tête tumor, I continue to paint – exploring abstraction.

We have art in order not to die of the truth.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Like Bob Ray I hold some hope for our disgustingly abused country. The asswipian Republi/Fascist fuckers and their insane treasonweaseling leader are on the wrong side of humanity, history and the planet. We’ll win as long as we hang tough and together like the Lakota, Dakota and Cheyenne did at the Battle of Greasy Grass.

We CAN do this and, YES, bring on the twenties!