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A pilgrimage to the city of Trang-Un & a death in the mouth of a cow. Mercury & Prometheus, among other guests, ride along.
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Thank you for the Support

Posted by Eric Westerlind (Creator)
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Thank you for the Support

That’s an easy title to this. It’s where I lift my arms up and encourage you to clap for you because you deserve the claps. It’s where I humble myself again.

This is hard, yo. Like, jump-in-the-shower run-to-my-safe-places hard. I have not been so frustrated with myself as with this task, this Ugo. Incredibly, every piece of good advice I’ve ever been able to hand out at the right moment comes to me in a myriad of forms: I write good advice to myself, I hear good advice from friends sitting on my kitchen floor. I hear podcasts while I’m designing. I read books. I think good thoughts on the bus ride home. And then I hit the task itself, sitting at my desk, headphones on, pick a playlist, imagine the whole thing happening and then it’s like a fucking sledgehammer to the face, only completely imaginary and totally invisible. I’m like, choking at the neck. The neck of my brain. It’s weird and it’s harmless but it’s totally like the feeling of really believing you can levitate a rock with your mind and then sitting there staring at a smooth stone on a beach for hours.

So that’s how I’ve been.

Thank you for your support. For your renewed support. I want you to know that the fact that every month I feel the need to send a letter out to You is because you signed up for this with me, and it keeps me on track.

My dad asked me why I didn’t just go the standard way of publication. He calls questions like that ‘being the dad’. I don’t know, Pop. Part laziness part stubbornness part courage part fear part carelessness? What I do know is half the time I look at authors / writers who go the route of seeking out an agent, hooking into a publication, getting an editor, or half the time I imagine myself being that writer / author who’s hooked into a system, is really just hoping someone will tell me I have to do what I’m doing. That it’s not optional.

Thank you for saying it’s not optional anymore. Thank you for saying YOUR EDITS ARE DUE TOMORROW. And when I don’t show up with those edits, thank you for asking me how the book is going. You are kind, and you care, and it surprises me. Thank you for saying ‘your book will be the next book I read’, because it makes me want to write faster so that you start reading sooner because reading, don’t forget, is important. I wish you would read something in the meanwhile, any book. Some go fast, the best go slow. Or maybe the best go too fast, which is slow still, but not slow enough so you know you have to go back. 

I’m talking about books right?

But I’m talking about other things too.

Thank you for thinking of a good day to encourage me with a text; not the first day after I asked but three days later—that was considerate and it made me hungry for more. I acknowledge that even if you tell me I have to, I still have to tell me I have to, too. Sometimes I lean on hearts, thumbs ups, affirmations, texts, just like I hate seeing other people do. It’s called hypocrisy or projection and it makes me want to puke it out, but it’s also like a layer of skin. I’m sure it has a purpose even if there are six others. 

Layers.

Thank you for telling me twice that I need to do my edits. And thank you for making me tea from your garden and listening to me rant about how I finally figured out how to edit. I keep finally figuring it out and you keep being willing to listen. I’ll do what I can for you. Make tea or whatever.

Thank you, folks. Thank you, friends. I’m still not done, but I finally figured out how to edit, and it’s something I already knew, but what’s so cool about us, humans, is we keep re-learning ourselves, and the act is entertaining enough that we stop worrying about the absolute black gaping hole that is death (which will suck us all in, oh yes) and keep planting flowers just at its perimeter, our little hair-pouf blowing ever over, ever over, and ever over again.

More to come, Thank you for the Support

-ew

Self Portrait
Self Portrait

 (of a workaholic on his schedule)

The Feels
The Feels
The Head is the Engine of Prophecy
The Head is the Engine of Prophecy
Head
Head
Girl loves sugar
Girl loves sugar
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