June 4th, 2022
I’m writing this while my human blood is still mostly replaced with coffee, so I hope it’s coherent.
A giant hug and a supermassive thank you to the kind souls who came out to support me today; I don’t know what I did in dreams or a previous life to get you all in my corner, but I am beyond grateful that you are.
Another perfectly connected high five goes to Mighty Fine Coffee, who not only have some of the best coffee I’ve ever had the privilege of consuming, but the best people. (Whoa, sorry, I do not consume people, but Nate and I did have a conversation which naturally referenced cannibals.) Their space was absolutely perfect for this event (and I hope to work with them again soon!).
A good question I got asked several times today was, “Why?” Why do I do this? Why do I create things and put myself into packages for other people to take home with them?
The answer is both simple and dark, and is a theme of the book I was celebrating today, Cold World.
When you don’t believe in a literal heaven, when the idea of a forever life after life doesn’t resonate with you, you start to try to find a way to live as long as you can here.
I do that with art.
I can’t speak for all artists, but I can tell you that I will, at least deep down, never feel like I’ll be remembered in a meaningful way for who I am as a human being.
So I invest my human being-ness into words and pictures and sounds that stand a better chance.
I’m building an afterlife.
It’s why we have pyramids and Stonehenge and Starry Night. It’s why I have Them and Flip and Us and The Weirdos and Theia and Time is a Solid State and Push and Cold World and Brushfire.
And I’m just glad they’ve been able to connect with people while I’m alive to talk about them, and that in itself makes me feel even more alive.
Thank you again so much. All my love. And I’ll be seeing you again soon.
The Den 