Ouch!

An x‑ray last Friday confirmed that I have, in fact, fractured my coccyx. My tailbone. My butt. If someone wanted to refer to me as “broke‑ass,” it would be apt, at least in a literal sense.

Sitting hurts. Standing hurts. Existing hurts. I’ve been hobbling around as a man personally wronged by winter.

I haven’t painted much in the last bit here because of the above. It is starting to feel a bit better, so hopefully I will feel up to it tomorrow.

I signed up for a one‑day acrylic painting class through the University of MN Arboretum coming up in March. My sister and my stepmother are going as well. It is just before my dad’s birthday, so he will be with us in spirit. I know I still have much to learn, and I hope to gain some knowledge and experience while there.

I was talking with my little sister the other day. We have had a lot of time this past year to compare different kinds of loss. The wholly unexpected, and that which we had time to prepare for. My father, suddenly and without notice; my mother, diagnosed with time to plan. I struggled watching my mother decline; it was one of the harder things I have gone through. At the same time, it felt like there was closure, and a goodbye.

I wish I had more time with both of my parents, but I feel like I missed out with my pops. One day he was here, and one afternoon we got a call that he was gone. We always had a good “surface” relationship. We loved discussing science fiction. Movies, TV, and books were things we connected over. One‑liners from our favorites were ALWAYS mentioned. (“Enough! You wanna fight? You fight me, you big, ugly, smelly‑breath sucker! Or how ‘bout you? String bean, Rick James‑lookin’ fool!” at which point any siblings present can’t physically help but respond, “Beast! Kill him!” IFKYK.) We never argued, and there was never any animosity, but we never really connected on a deeper level either. I always felt like there was time to get there. I think if he had been around this fall, we could’ve connected more over my art. I think he would’ve enjoyed looking at this site. In fact, he would probably have commented on every blog. And he would probably log in to Facebook occasionally just to like every single photo, post, and reel once every couple of weeks (like he did on my regular Facebook page).

I don’t know how these blogs became the place where I lament. I try to even it out with some humor. But for whatever reason these are the words that flow out when I start typing.

And honestly, sometimes the universe seems determined to balance things out for me. Which brings me to Tavi.

While I’ve been shuffling around like a wounded NPC with a “−10 Agility” debuff, Tavi has taken it upon himself to become my full‑time emotional support supervisor. And by “support,” I mean he watches me attempt basic tasks with the same expression a sitcom audience gives right before the laugh track kicks in. Yesterday I dropped a pen and tried to pick it up without bending (yes, I was trying to grasp it between sock covered toes to then transport within reach), and he looked at me like, “Bold move, human. Let’s see how this plays out.” Zero sympathy. Maximum entertainment. If dogs could sell tickets, he would’ve monetized this injury by now. As much as I love him, and I know he is attached to me, he isn’t much for comforting me. lol

I suppose I should continue the lighter mood to complete this meandering detour. Who wants to hear one of my favorite jokes? (Too bad, I’m going to tell it anyway…)

Why don’t you ever see elephants hiding in trees?
Because they are really good at it!
Ba dum tiss.

Thank you for following along with the chaotic monologue that is my blog. Life is weird, art is healing, and I’m grateful for every single person who shows up to read these ramblings, view my creations, and follows my creative journey.

More to come — once my tailbone forgives me. Be kind to one another.