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
What’s the last thing you would think of doing when you come upon a water body choked with stinking, rotting fish? Scoop up a double handful and “chow down.”
The Fish Kill Crunch children’s party game sanitizes this vision by substituting cookies. Children can gobble up the cookies to clean their stretch of the river and win, but it’s never gone for good — they’ll make more.
Should you show photos of fish kills before or after the game? That’s up to you. Maybe just putting a rotting fish in the Feely Bag, and leaving it to their imagination is more than enough.