Archive for the ‘Supporters Only’ Category

Sunday Checkin: Year 3 – from Seattle to SMF

Thursday, November 23rd, 2017

I’ve been on the road for two weeks now, mostly visiting friends and family with a day or two of driving time in between. I’m updating from Sacramento on the day of whitewashed gaslight homage that is thanksgiving, better known as day of mourning, in which we not only continue to ambiently ignore but also blatantly celebrate the deliberate genocide of the people whose stolen land we’re sitting on. Remember kids, #whitesupremacy is #terrorism.

The trip has been good so far. I picked up a boat toilet thanks to Adam, who is a patron here and also sent me an Amazon gift card for my birthday, so now I have the option of pooping someplace other than a plastic bag.

Truth be told, I’m not sure how excited I am about this yet, as dealing with water and enzymes and finding a place to store another thing are all cons on the list when considering this upgrade; but one of the points of this trip is to a) fit entirely in the van without roof storage and b) learn to let go of more of the nice-to-have shit in favor of having the basics — like a place to poop, and secondary electrical, which will all take up space. Really, considering these changes are the biggest conundrum on my mind right now, stuff is going pretty well I think.

In terms of mechanical issues, the van is running perfectly since fixing that coolant leak, and started right up in Salt Lake Cities recent ~27 degree weather. Not only did I not panic and freeze and call for a tow and hemorrhage money and time getting diag from a mechanic when my van was smoking coolant not 60 miles outside of Seattle, I also nursed said van over the mountain passes and kept my head about me spending only $20 on a jug of anti-freeze to get to my first sanctuary spot in Kennewick, where I then damned the darkness and the cold and put a headlamp on and pulled out my toolkit and ripped off my panels and doghouse and got the fuck in there and took shit apart and tracked down my motherfucking coolant leak, then fixed the damn hose with my bud in his driveway. I was very proud of myself for a while.

In addition to the doodling, I’ve added a watercolor created while in Salt Lake City, “Silent Treatment”, to my store at

I’m taking less video this trip, since taking video last trip has resulted in me having a bunch of video to deal with. :P I might use this year to get b-roll and edit the cold front documentary from last year in laptop-managable chunks, like this one. I’m also finding that talking to a camera is not the same as talking with my friends, so rather than trying to sort of interview myself in a vacuum, I am planning to periodically post polo’s from the conversations I have.

I got my first round of the road sobs on my way through Reno, listening to the Mystere soundtrack for the first in many years. It was the first Cirque show I had ever seen, and it was live, and I was reminded of the surge in my chest and how awake I felt, how overwhelming it was when the drummers began descending from the ceiling, and how instantly I knew I wanted to be a part of that somehow.

I really think in terms of the feeling I expect I’ll have when I know what I’m going to do next, it’s something along the lines of wanting that badly to be a part of something again. I don’t know where it is, or when it is, but I am looking for another something I can worm my way into, take a big chunk of, and let change me.

I thought, for a moment, to audition my vocals to Cirque, again.


Wednesday, November 1st, 2017

A meditation on what comes after #metoo

After a long few days I finally crashed like a brick last night. I am so tired. I am so tired of the groupthink onus being on victims of abuse, to rehash, to out themselves, to display their pain, to direct. What can you do? Figure out why you don’t actually care. Figure out why your problem solving skills, your observational skills, your creative solutions, your inventiveness, your ingenuity, is inaccessible to you regarding the topic of rape and abuse in yourself and your community. Figure out why, even though it is fundamentally imbibed in our society, even though it is everywhere, including in your own life and your own actions, you can’t see it. Figure out why you spend your resources and energy trying to invent external accountability incentives that don’t exist in a society that bred this into all of us and rewards it. Figure out why you feel entitled to victims having to attempt over and over again to convince you to leverage your power to choose to be accountable, to choose to be observant, to choose to question yourself — and to choose to question other men. Figure out what is stopping you from taking responsibility, what is stopping you from even wanting to pay attention when there isn’t a bi-annual mass movement of mobilized agony being shoved in your fucking face forcing you to look, what is stopping you from stepping in to take on your share of the labor in evolving YOURSELF and YOUR PEOPLE who benefit the most from how things are. Figure out why you see that lack of motivation as an answer you’re entitled to be given by someone else rather than the personal work of actualizing your own damn self. Figure out what the fuck is going on with you and then take action to address it. WHAT CAN YOU DO? Do the work. Do. Your fucking. Work.

I’m grateful for the positive outcomes and breakthroughs that came and will come of this, and future campaigns like this. And I am also thinking enough is a fucking nough

From my angle, #metoo is where we the privileged once again ignorantly twisted the existing healing work of black women, this time launching into another traumatic upheaval rife with the mass demand for further extraction of exhausting, gut-wrenching labor. We did it in the incompetent medium of a digital suckwound, in order to step, again, into the unattainable responsibility of educating and reforming the benefactors of our oppression, and those who are complicit in their behavior.

Did it ‘work’? Seems so. And, I am critical of the further damage being done to women of color in how the campaign was launched, how #metoo is being capitalized upon now by one of us without compensating the originator (that fucking disgusting hat!!), and the damage done to every abuse survivor that is ripped open again right now as a result. I am critical of the (irresponsible, frankly) mass reanimation of trauma I am myself experiencing and witnessing the consequences of. I just don’t think we have the fucking resources for that, the support network, and as I sit with it, I am coming full circle back to the deep roiling anger that motivated me to come back on fb, to participate, to inform my rage at being called AGAIN to say ME TOO, rather than stew in it from the sidelines.

Is #metoo a net positive? I’ll work to think of it that way, for my own sanity. But listen: There are better ways to be doing this work. Even online. Less painful, more connecting, more effective. I know it. And I know that it’s not Alyssa fucking Milano and her friends who know how to do it better.

White women: We share in our abusers grooming, at the very least as part of white supremacy. We share in the violence of oppression, the disconnection of hierarchy, and the familiarity of manufacturing agony in order to feel.

Why the FUCK are we still trying to lead this shit, y’all? Why are we still listening to the half cocked ideas of out of touch celebrities on top of that?

Where is OUR accountability?

Is our lack of it part of the reason we periodically enroll feminism in performing its suffering to all-but-guaranteed pain for dimished, shot-in-the-dark returns?

And how much of this gaping maw in my gut is really because we, I, us, ultimately, still, have yet to reconcile and address our own incompetence, our own culpability in our cultures abuses, even within our own movements?

Why are we still doing it this way?

Like how many more victim-centric campaigns gotta morf into victims-teaching-abusers, holding space for people who dont get it, doing all that work, before I act like I understand that my pointing my griefguts at perpetrator recovery ain’t being accountable, but punishing myself. One fucking day of going to bat with #metoo and I felt drained, disrespected, misunderstood and want to curl up in a fucking hole — and that’s dealing with the well meaning and not a single fucking troll. I wish it weren’t so hard to GET that I am worth treating myself better than this, but I think part of the issue is that I don’t see another way to handle the tension and energy yet. Just hearing #metoo was happening put me in a spin, fucked up my appetite, raced my thoughts, and called me back here. I care about this shit, but fuck man. The waves won’t stop coming, and I won’t stop caring, so I hope this last wave is the one where I finally learn how to be involved in this cause without putting myself through a fucking meat grinder every time.

Open mic at Ould Triangle

Thursday, August 24th, 2017

Did a spontaneous open mic last night as a means of dusting myself off. It was a nice enough experience, largely because my pal Carl, whom I hate with the fire of a thousand suns for all eternity, was there hanging out with me.

In terms of the venue, I doubt I will be back. The layout was awful for actually paying attention to what was going on on the stage, with the pool table taking up the space where an audience should be. It’s not really my jam in terms of social atmosphere for playing music, and while I got a nice reaction, I’m more into selling nowadays — and I literally had a guy who missed my set tell me that my album of music that he was oh so interested in hearing when he thought I was yet to play wasn’t worth his money, cause it was 2 bucks more than another drink. Like literally exactly the kind of person who inspired Buy My Fucking Music Asshole.

It would be sorta poetic, really, if it didn’t happen basically every fucking time.

Finally figured out who this was for

Monday, August 21st, 2017

Sunday Checkin: Cloud Cover Video, and Kathy Griffin Parody

Sunday, June 25th, 2017

Cloud Cover Video

My apologies for getting this show video to you so late. I made the mistake of watching video of performance that was outside of my cannon which I did for the fun of it while I was deeply depressed, and launched myself into a tangent impostor syndrome crisis for a while. That was then and this is now, though, and they are here for you because you helped make them happen and because I am very grateful for that. Also you deserve to see what me having some fun actually looks like nowadays. :P

I’ve upped the best of the songs to There are four songs, my two classic covers Paint it Black and House of The Rising Sun with a full band, Heartbreaker, and What’s Up.

This collaboration show was so fruitful for me in many ways. It served as an anchor when I was drifting and in financial/situational crisis and didn’t know what to do or where to go. It was a learning experience as a musician and a confidence booster as I pushed myself to get up to speed and put on a good show. The audience in attendance enjoyed it, and learning the songs we played has increased the quality of the singles I’m currently working on.

Digital Photo Manipulation: “Fuck White Men”

I’ve also made some digital art for the first time in a long while, I believe my last photo manipulation using stock was in 2004 or so, back when I was on DeviantART and maintained a gallery there. I used three images of myself to make this, including a self photograph from 2004, a photo by Malixe in 2013, and a photo by John Cornicello in 2014, as well as a stock hand and hood.

The image on this post is entitled “Fuck White Men”, which is what I label the censor bar in the social media friendly version (because fuck white men and their irrational nipplephobia).

I was compelled to make this very quickly after discovering that yet another one of those men has been cheating and gaslighting me about it for months. I am still very angry and starting to be sad about it now after just finally catching him a few days ago.

I decided to channel that rage into one I ambiently feel all the time, everywhere I look, toward white supremacy and specifically privileged white men who sit and do nothing as they also hold the most power to dismantle the system that prioritizes their safety, comfort and well being over that of any other type of person (or being) on the planet. That includes the blatant outspoken racists, but so, so many more.

As an activist it is fucking infuriating to watch so many poor, marginalized people, mostly women and genderqueer, fighting their asses off uphill for humanity while established white men sit and bitch about how the battle cries are too loud from their ivory towers. White men who, as long as they have theirs, don’t give a shit what the cost is to everyone else. I am fucking sick of it.

So is Kathy Griffin, a comedian who I don’t particularly identify with, but who has been dealing with what it’s like to be a loud woman in a mans world for a very long time. She got a lot of flack for her image of a beheaded trump recently. My image is inspired by hers.

Fun tidbit: I spent a stupid amount of money on the stock photo for the hood because my safesearch settings were shit and I was determined to get it out/done in the middle of the night. It was like 4 in the morning and my brain was like ‘this is an important one nee, the public will outcry nee, invest in your art nee, you cant find pix of this because The Man is censoring the world nee’ and the next day I did the search on a different browser on my phone and… motherfucker.

WIP: I Hate The Fucking Internet Today

Wednesday, June 21st, 2017

I’m working on a maxi-single for I Hate The Fucking Internet Today while simultaneously fleshing out the lyrics (WIP = Work In Progress, afterall).

It will be 5 songs I think, 4 of them versions of this one, and I think I’m gonna tack on What Kind Of Asshole Are You. I have a fast/cute solo ukulele version, a piano version, a guitar/looper version, and an Not Applicable version.

Been mucking around with the song this eve. Like, for long enough. But I had this urge to practice it again, even though now is the right time to stop.

While I was sitting there thinking about whether to push myself, I realized that my motivation to do that is out of fear that I will lose the mojo unless I force it down my own throat to exhaustion.

Like I actually have the story in my head that I will forget how to work the looper patch I’m setting up and practicing on, the foot dance I am literally fucking choreographing for myself around a song I’ve been chewing on for months.

I’m not really sure if this is actually how I learn, but I am pretty certain that the impulse comes from a deep insecurity and lack of confidence in myself in part because, get this: I find it so exhausting and strenuous to learn shit.

Like what the actual fuck.

Sunday Checkin: Mostly visual art stuff

Sunday, June 11th, 2017

Hallo comrades,

I’ve been working on a few visual art projects since last update, including the examples above. I got the idea for creation of these portraits after seeing the high tallies of a handful of my patrons ‘lifetime’ contributions and being pretty fucking blown away by your generosity. I wanted to do something nice and personal for y’all, so I started this series. There are a few more to go. Thank you. 150w, 550w, 370w" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" />

This is a preliminary sketch of a cosplayer whose work, “Ash Wednesday”, I was thinking of drawing. Tina’s concept required a full body format to show the cosplay and would have been for comic/horror conventions with the intent to sell prints. I bowed out of the project after realizing I wasn’t the right artist for the job. 550w, 370w" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" />

I created a piece for KEXP’s On The Record show in collaboration with the weekly artist meetup Drawnk. Here’s the store where you can buy the records,
The show is up until July 5th at KEXP’s gathering room in Seattle Center. 150w, 550w, 370w" sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" />

I was inspired to enter the show after playing the Blue Moon Tavern, an iconic Seattle venue, with the local cover band Cloud Cover last month.

WATERCOLOR: Lifecycle of a portrait

Wednesday, April 20th, 2016

Here are the main stages of a typical watercolor portrait of mine. I posted a shortened version of this on my FB, tumblr and Instagram but thought I would elaborate more here.

Stage 1

The first stage is using a reference photo (sometimes I use multiple photos and combine them, like I did with my friends Ijeoma and Andrew) to create a pencil sketch. This is generally the most time consuming part and creates the skeleton for the entire image. In this example, the shadows are bumped up in post processing to make the sketch appear darker than it is, but I do seem to rely on these lines more than most of the process photos and tutorials I see on youtube. But comparison is an art killer, so fuck it.

This part is generally the brow scrunching and sort of annoying part. Every time I erase, I damage the watercolor paper some, and I already work pretty wet most of the time, often causing nubbins to develop on parts of the paper that I pick off with tweezers. This is where I really appreciate having an art projector, though there is definitely a deepened sense of satisfaction when drawing these freehand.

For this portrait, I used my pigma micron ink pens to outline the pencil sketch, then erased the pencil (which often shows through the watercolor in ways I don’t like), but sometimes I save the outlines for later. Just depends.

Stage 2

You can see in this image that the lines aren’t nearly so harsh, in part because I have erased the pencil. I am working on sketching with less pencil shading since I just erase it anyways, but for right now it helps me see the balance of the shapes as I draw and gives me a chance to practice where I want shading. At the point that I took the middle image, I had probably let the paper dry two or three times. There is a lot of drying, then wetting to smooth color edges in the way that I work, and lots of building up of the dark layers. The white balance of the photo is a bit warm, here.

Stage 3

At this point, I have added all the watercolor I intend to add and started working on highlights and deepening shadows, which I do with white and black ink pens respectively. My style is lines for dark and bubbles for highlight, usually but not always. I like to add a few squiggles and dots here and there for depth and detail, and at this point I usually widen my outlines with a slightly larger micron. Eventually, I would really like to upgrade to acrylic inks and nibs for this. The white balance of this third image is a bit on the cool side, but I like that it shows the element of detail in how I add texture to skin by utilizing both cool and warm tones.

So yeah, that’s how I do it. Usually takes a few hours. Eventually I hope to be the type who can draw interesting backgrounds and not get totally burnt out, but for now it’s color splotches, swirls, and drips.

Still pooping on rape culture

Thursday, January 28th, 2016

So I was told yesterday that comically centering my own nonsexual nudity in any of the constant reminders I post about my patreon existing is disingenuous, because I rail against rape culture.Mmmkay.

I was told that it’s ok to use nudity in my art, which I have done for over 20 years, but it’s not ok to make a joke about posting boobs on patreon so haha sign up.


I was told that harnessing my own agency and inviting people to support me in a way that ever centers that portion of my body of work devalues everything else about me.

*files nails*

A man, who has been at times clearly conflicted with his own attraction to me, which is what he centered when stating his ‘honest opinion’ about his perception of not being able to afford to see my tits (the image is public, actually, in my modeling portfolio) told me this, and claimed to be trying to point out what he viewed as internalized sexism.


He told me I couldn’t have it both ways, that I couldn’t critique and work to transform a culture which seeks to objectify and shame my body without my consent, and ever consent to being gazed upon with my nipples showing and having the audacity to suggest that it’s possible to be financially supported in that.

*side eye*

He told me this in response to the first post I’ve penned in almost two years in which I centered my nudity, much less in good humor, and, even though he is a fucking therapist, failed to recognize how deeply vulnerable and brave of a step that reclaiming was for me in my healing.


This is an aspect of rape culture. That women are not allowed their own pride, agency, or to make money with their bodies, as long as any old man who gets a boner doesn’t have free license to objectify her any time he wants.

It’s a part of rape culture to hold the belief that a womans figure, nudity, sexuality is consumable only if she’s giving it away freely, and doesn’t expect compensation unless she sits down and shuts up.

I am officially on record as not here for that shit.

I’m not here for being shamed and diminished by some creepweasel fingerwagging shitbiscuit just as I’m rising from ashes and reclaiming an openness about my own fucking body  — an openness that has brought me joy and exhileration and freedom and makes me laugh and allows for me to return to a more complete expression that I’d long since lost to fucking trauma.

I am not here for shaming nude artists of any form, including my friends who are porn stars and sex workers, or even remotely implying that their willful participation in that negates their stances or validity as rape culture critics/consent culture advocates.

So you can thank this asshole for the verocity of the flood of nudity that is likely to become present in my immediate work.

And you can sign up to support that work, along with my book, my music, my neverending nomadic journey, at

*sips tea*

Process of a digitally edited watercolor

Wednesday, October 14th, 2015

This is a 6 inch by 4 inch watercolor postcard. I used watercolor pens, tea, ballpoint and pencil. I used the above self-photograph image as a reference.

IMG_7562 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" /> I started with pencil to sketch the basics

IMG_7563 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" /> Then began adding watercolor pen to the dry paper

IMG_7564 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" />

IMG_7565 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" />

IMG_7566 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" />

IMG_7567 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" /> Now time to start adding tea and blending

IMG_7568 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" />

IMG_7569 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" />

IMG_7570 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" />

Adding ballpoint 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" /> Adding ballpoint

IMG_7572 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" /> Adding more watercolor

IMG_7573 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" /> At this point, I realized my facial dimensions were off. I had made my eyes too small, and too close together. I tried shading and highlighting to make up for the issues.

IMG_7574 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" /> At this point I realized that not only were my eyes too far apart, but my mouth was too small and too low, also. These are very typical issues for me to have when I am working from a portrait reference.

IMG_7576 768w, 261w, 688w, 1152w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" /> Once finished, with added highlightsI knew I wouldn’t want to use this as my avatar representation as I’d planned. Though it’s a good painting, it just didn’t look enough like me. The eyes were too small, too close, and the mouth was too small and far away. In addition, the head/hat was a little wonky, too.

IMG_7576 adjusted 768w, 261w, 688w, 1536w" sizes="(max-width: 550px) 100vw, 550px" /> But then I remembered I have digital art skills too, even though I’ve never used them to fix watercolors. So I adjusted it in Photoshop. :)

24 hours

Monday, August 3rd, 2015

The artwork I’ve made in the last 24 hours. About 12.5×6″ Ballpoint, ink, watercolor.

From top, my friends:
Fedora El Morro, Eliza Skeffington, and Dreadful Jonquil.