I’ve now posted this on: Substack, Patreon, Facebook, and Instagram. In lieu of hopping to LinkedIn, FetLife, Twitter*, and every WhatsApp group I’m in…. Let’s call it, and allow the website to have the final word on the matter.

*which is a satire account anyway, since it’s a joke platform

COMING SOON: EDITING.

Yes, that’s right. Soon, I will go back to everything I’ve spat out in these past few months…. decent work, mind you, but I don’t think the tone is what’s needed right now.

Since I started chopping, screwing, bopping, twisting, and re-applying myself to language in an unfiltered way, my tone has been:

1. urgent; harried
2. Self-aggrandizing
3. Overwhelmingly punchy
4. At times illegible
5. Offense-oriented

I’m not saying this to self-deprecate or self-depreciate.

My tone has been suffering ever since I’ve noticed that I can’t live in the same house as my ex, ever since I lost my job and called it quits with the service industry, ever since, ever since, ever since. Of course my tone has been suffering. I’ve been suffering!

More suffering is not what we need. I am doing my best to commit to thriving as well as surviving. Spitting out my work supports me by creating room for generation; internalizing new ways of thinking.

Can I love harder than I’ve ever loved before?

Let’s find out, shall we?

There’s no time like the present to address tone.

Dr Michelle Carnes and Shady Rose are two people who have, time and again, given me feedback that is genuinely aligned with my goals, values, and autonomy. This is what I seek in the artistic externalization process. I make art such that I can make more art. Forever. As far as the improvement of my art is concerned: either of those geniuses would ask: who decides what improvement is?

Those two are not alone, of course, there are dozens, if not hundreds, of people I have thanked and will thank again for their contributions towards my capacity to make valuable art. My parents, for example, both artists, arguably can claim the lion’s share of credit.

See, that’s where I am laughing. What I know, what I hope you will come to expect from me is,

I am no lion. I share easily. There is no credit nor diss. You cannot discredit me for I am neither egg nor theory. I am part fan, part fiction, constantly finding words to say and recalling who moved me to speak.

Many ways exist to agree with my values:

1. Buy my work. Literal patronage, my favorite blessing.
2. Steal my work. At least sometimes, I am quite obviously pro-theft.
3. Move me to make work. My art consumption waxes and wanes, but if you send it to me specifically inviting me to consume? Irresistible.
4. Perhaps you have a fourth way up your sleeve.

I define work as every other four letter word. Buy my moon, steal my idea, move me to play.

Are you uncertain? Or confident it’s not worth your time? I’ll tell you a secret, after showing you these birds (yes, the same as before, but grown, like me, I am GROWN):

Based on the evidence I’ve gathered over the past thirty years, in the world’s longest-running Nature vs. Nurture experiment, 85%-90% of the world’s population can capture my intense, sustained, attachment-seeking attention. And let me tell ya, what I long for most, what I dream of, what I strive towards, is to be compelling and compelled.

Ah, yes, my editing eye tells me I’ve strayed from the purpose of this post. At least one of my ancestors lived a nomadic lifestyle, and my bones shiver, tingle, rattle, shake, in that everlong agreement to keep it moving. Brittle, they are not.

Love,

KAAK