while my tattoist was working on my arm last week, we talked about how hard it is to work while under observation. “i just can’t handle being perceived while i’m in process,” they said. that’s it exactly, for me, with visual & verbal projects. but performing, that’s a different matter. it’s nuanced…

gosh, my amygdala is being such a pest today

born in a chance encounter, guided by a dream… a poetry reading in a shoe store?!? yes. check it out! me, carrie olivia adams & nate hoks read & chat, assisted by questions found in dreams & chosen by the audience! (that’s YOU) www.fluevog.com/flueblog/poe...

“hello!…is that…jay?” as i enter the shop. i pull back the hood i have up to protect my eyes from mean sun glare, jawa-fashion. “it is!! hi!” joyous at being recognized enthusiastically. “do you hug?” i’m asked. “do i ever—i’m a bit sunscreeny tho.” i missed this, the hobnob & zipzap of energy

y’know that old-fashioned insult, “go soak your head”? that actually feels pretty damn good when you do it in the heat.

WAITING FOR GODOT except call it YOUR PACKAGE IS ON THE WAY

suddenly last night found myself thinking about how ST:DS9 showrunners embraced nana visitor’s pregnancy, not just declining to penalize her for it but actually incorporating it into story & character arcs in meaningful, relevant & innovative ways. they chose to run right thru the doors it opened!

one fascinating thing about what my brain’s been doing the past few years: it is now much easier for me to distinguish between everyday emotions/“moods” & flaring symptoms in the complex interplay of my psychiatric disabilities. it’s helped a lot in the way i relate to symptoms when they do arise.

out by the flooded des plains this morning, turned back at the gate to the road & found a coyote had been following us, hopeful that we’d be like typical humans & drop our food scraps & litter behind us. we weren’t eating anything. every mammal we saw had a ruddy coat in that overcast morning light.

yeah, i can confirm that i *still* feel that “celebrating” with something that sounds like a car bomb is basically… …cruel.

planted this wild yam about 5 years ago. just saw that it’s traveling up the hose to the roof garden, perhaps egged on by the boston ivy up the sides of the building & garage.

so nice to take the bandage off & run cool water over the ink until the odd bits wash away, & pat some bacitracin on it…aaaahhhhhhhhh☺️

images are only selectively loading (though the text descriptions are, yay) & i’m getting phantom notifs. i guess there’s a lot going on.

happy constant-earplugs week, to those in the u.s. who celebrate it😐

chicago is this woman in the blue crepe sundress on an e-scooter godsspeed sister

when sonny was still a kid, r. made a windowsill ledge for him. it’s somewhat too small now, especially in this heat when he spreads out like a puddle in his sleep.

i am honored to have made/done a good thing. 💚💚 this week especially.

i admire the hell out of the young enby & clockably tr*ns folks i see (recognizing that i probably underestimate my own clockability) & i fear for them too—sometimes i think the “here we go again” of tr*ns elderhood is easier to face than the wtf of loss they face. but access has always been uneven

grief can be immobilizing, but it can also be catalytic. let it be what it must be & build with the tools it brings. everything changes.

it’s been a long, long, long day

i have a bunch of these left over from my adventures in oral surgery the past couple years. they are great for slipping into a pocket to help mitigate dangerous heat. i also do the farmer trick i learned from my dad, rolling up a line of ice cubes in a bandanna & tying it around my neck.

Happy pub day! Toby Altman’s Jewel Box is out today. Purchase through @asterismbooks.bsky.social or on our website! www.essaypress.org/altman/

just a reminder that humor, like politics, is a collaborative effort

this is the only way i can keep going while under attack, by the way. my whole life, the thing that’s gotten me through even alongside my mistakes & accidental doing harm—it’s my capacity & need to love. to give that & whatever else i can, to have it received & passed on.

maybe learning from/with each other is a form or an aspect of love. i’ve observed that if i’m part of a relation within which mutual learning is important, that usually means it’s a beneficial & loving relation. it can be unlanguageable. this includes my relations with places & nonhumans, in fact.

pre-scheduled with my tattooist 🎉

via trusted friend @buddhastew.bsky.social — mutual aid need on the northside — totally vouched for! venmo laurenhusting, other options in alt text

saw a little convoy of empty floats being towed northward on ashland just now🎉

been on a half-days meditation retreat this weekend so i’m less engaged with socials. still around tho.

while we’re bestowing honors…i think this title should go to you, @4sylvestermccoy.bsky.social

if you’re like me & your everyday activities make absolutely no sense according to the dominant metrics—hi. we probably have a lot to share. let’s go!

i don’t know that i experience or would describe the feeling of being my full self as “pride”. it’s more like stubbornness. but i do get how people want to frame it as pride—a flag is much easier to carry than some other symbol, like a big knot, & a stubbornness parade just wouldn’t get anywhere…

it’s interesting to track how my approach to relations with other humans has changed. i used to believe that the best way to navigate the problem of others’ ableism was to explain absolutely everything about my limits up front so they knew what (not) to expect. turns out that wasn’t a great move.

fun fact about me: in any outfit i wear, i will have an apparently excessive number of pockets, & in at least one of those pockets will be at least one ping pong ball.

i’m tired of my people being framed as harbingers of doom, as signs of something terrible. we embody change, certainly; change is life, certainly. i hold us as proof of something brilliant & wonderful, something absolutely necessary. our ordinary extraordinary lives are necessary. we’re needed here.

in funnerer news: WEDNESDAY. made on a tuesday (today in fact).

alright, that’s it. who’re my autistic & other folks with difficulty processing & integrating sensory information, who can get in on designing a social media/patronage/hosting platform that is NOT based on the idea that everybody wants or can tolerate a steady stream of non-opt-outable

i don’t use or take “clown” as an insult, largely because for me clowning is a kind of spiritual practice. i’m slowly trying to articulate how & why that is…it’s not easy, often because of the weight of pejorative meanings against which my experience/practice must push. anyway—

It's too darn hot, stop working & write some gay poems for the magazine of Outburst Queer Arts Festival, Belfast. catflap #6 deadline: 15 July 2026 send: poems, essays, hybrid fabulous sphinxes heed the call👇 outburstarts.com/events-proje...

sonny bids us all a gargoyly good morning from the top of the grow-tent.

oh noooooo—i just caught myself trying to tap on an author photo in a print book to expand it…🤦‍♂️🕳️

more arugula & some white beets sown

If you're in the Bay Area come through! My first public reading in a long time.

i don't usually share individual artworks or poems on social, for various reasons. for text-only poems, it's just not the way i work--my focus is not on individual poems. but for visual/collage/erasures, i'm trying to do so more often just to get people used to this sort of thing from me. so--1/3:

i allow sonny one treat a day, maximum. of course he tries to argue that one per sleep is the same thing.

found in the garden while sowing collards before the rain. must be part of that “mysterious sequins of events” we keep hearing about.

have you ever thought about all the activity, labor, contributions you make to the communities you move in, outside of/beyond the dominating wage job/compensatory consumption metric? try it sometime. it’s illuminating. rather than separate your efforts into “work” & “hobby,” note what you bring to

contact? contact.

first planting of peas has run its course, so the plants are cut & chopped to dry for turning under in the beds. i leave the roots intact so the nitrogen-fixing can continue, & the vines help add other nutrients to the soil in the beds for a new sowing. next-gen peas are growing nicely, meanwhile.

i’d like to further examine my envy of well-known figures in activist/movement communities. the envy is often rooted in wishing i had their reach, but often it’s more selfish still—wishing their attention extended to me. there are other complexities, but i’m only beginning to sort this out. it’s