Hello, Out There

Okay, yes, it has been a while.  I have been feeling better and doing more which can lead to less contemplation and thus less writing for the likes of me.  So in that respect, no news has been good news.

I have also been in a bit of a tussle with a couple of issues vis-a-vis this whole blog thing:  First, what is appropriate to share here with you all and what I might more fruitfully or skillfully keep to myself?  As you who know and love me recognize, my instinct is to kinda lay it all out there, but if I what I really want is to be of service to both myself and others,  discretion may indeed be the better part of valor (as my both my mom and, more famously, Shakespeare said).  And discretion is, uh, not my strong suit, shall we say?  So I gotta chew on that a bit.  I don't want to blurt, I want to communicate.

There are other, more craft-related questions:  If this is a blog exploring my personal journey with cancer and  spirit, do I tell you about my family at the beach?  Do I address that only in terms related to the afore -mentioned topics?  Do you really wanna see pictures of my beloved dog?  That kind of thing...

And what about other people's privacy?  I am increasingly aware that while this can be a very lonely path, I am not alone.  My words and actions effect other people, and not always in the way I intend. 

Add to this stew the fact that my mortality, after being dangled so brazenly my face appears to be  suddenly -- woosh!-- back on the shelf of inevitable, yes, but imminent? Maybe, maybe not.

There has been no new normal for the last 5 months (or truthfully maybe year and a half?) of my life.  So when the roller coaster seems to have come to a resting point, it is understandable that I have trouble releasing my grip on the idea that my world will again fall away from underneath me any second now.  Maybe especially because that very lesson --impermanence, baby!-- has proven so precious to me.

Now it looks like I may have to deal with the fact that I might just have a new normal, at least for a while.  Maybe even for long enough to once again be in the position of contemplating how to get a paying gig...  Gosh, and I thought contemplating death was scary!

Who was it that said, "Dying is easy.  Comedy is hard"?  Being an artist in a down economy during late capitalism,  now, that's hard.  (Not to mention it being a tragedy as well as a comedy...)

So.  That's where I am.  I am thankful for all of you who care enough to check in here on me.  And wish you all the best as the snowy season descends upon us.  I'll be in touch, soon.  Promise.