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Today is 8/21/2005.

I have been writing online since 1999. I have never had a bio page or a disclaimer on my journal before now.

Things have changed, though, so I figure this is as good a time as any to catch everybody up on life.

I used to live in Boston, with a partner and a dog. I now live in DC, alone, and that is likely the last time I address the past in any direct manner. Most of the people who will read this are likely people I met on the internet, changing this space from one where I told stories of a funny life anonymously, to one where I document things in my life. Things I care about.

In many ways, the internet saved my life. It brought me merciful angels in amusing disguises. It has made me proud and passionate about things that I thought had died with my old life. For that reason, and many others, I come back to this space.

This is a story of rebuilding as much as it is a chronicle of anything else.

For anyone who remembers the old reincarnation, this site has the same general navigation. It is organized into days, weeks, months, and years. I like the calendar, and the rotation of time and the ticks we carve into the bedpost.

I think it goes without saying that if you are someone I left behind, and you did nothing to bridge the gap between us, there is nothing of interest to you here.

That is the only disclaimer I will make. I am old skool when it comes to the internet. I miss the wild west days. If you fear anyone reading your words, you should not put them up in public. So, if you are hellbent on watching my life through this window, have at it. But I won't be talking about anything you care about. You can count on that.

who

I always click on the bio page, while simultaneously looking down on the idea of writing one. I always thought that the written word is enough. You don't need to know the artist to appreciate the art.

I also once believed that making art that was to be exhibited or shown to others was inherently selling out.

Yes, I have been both noble and foolish.

A bio page gives context. A way in. A backdrop. An anchor. I have learned that all these things are necessary for orientation in the world. Why should here be any different?

So.

I am an artist and teacher living in Washington, DC. Frankly, this is one of the last places I would expect to live. I hate hot weather, and the summers here are nearly unbearably hot. I also don't like tourists and traffic. They are both in abundance here. I was only stopping by, until I sorted out my life and moved to San Francisco.

Yet, I am still here.

DC has given me some pretty amazing things. A very hard job that I love every day (and landed on me in the soda fountain shoppe kind of way.). I have made friends, solid friends, who have aided and abetted my desire to shed completely the old life and appreciate the new. San Francisco moved to me. I have been more fortunate than I ever expected to be.

Very little of the old me remains, and I spend much of time challenging the parts that persist. I do things I never thought I could do. I am happier than I ever thought I could be. I still fuck up things as much as I ever did. It is just that now, I lay it down and move on. Whatever dumbass thing I have done, you probably have done it, too.

I used to be someone who apologized for everything all the time. I don't apologize anymore. The scars and ticks and callouses are all there. I no longer wish them away. It is as it should be.