I have no idea what is happening – it’s like throwing pennies off a bridge. I just can’t get comfortable – it seems like the only thing that connects my life and art together is pain – it’s painful when I put them together – and more painful when I pull them apart. In 2007 I quit straddling the pain, quit my job, and moved to a rural studio in New York State. I work on creative projects, work on my life, and work on the day-to-day necessities of existence. No cell phone, no social media, no networking. But as I work on the books displayed on this author’s page; I feel another kind of pain — the pain of not working on something else: my printmaking and drawing are being neglected, my poetry output is a dripping faucet, and it looks like I’ll be telling NYFA that the Idea Enhancement Project just added another year to its timeline. When I read what I’ve just written; it’s as true as anything I can think of — but then so is the opposite: I need to process everything that happens . . .
September 8, 2021
This two-page spread on respirators is entirely factual and its recommendations are no more than prudent. The only thing over the top is the effort being made to deny it.
I have documentation showing that those who have been entrusted with the welfare of the public at large are allowing injury to rural residents by permitting agricultural activities without oversight or enforcement of regulations, and are deliberately withholding disclosure of the special risks and restrictions incurred by prospective buyers of property in an Agricultural District.
This documentation will be included in my next book: Cornithaca County.