Ask me about my culture war.
OK. So.
This is going to be a site where I post my poetry and longer writing, if such writing occurs. It will also be a site where I will post writing and art by people I admire. Most of this will be creative work will be on the subject of size, which chances are if you have found this site you already understand. For those that don’t, when I refer to ‘size’ like that, it means people who are orders of magnitude larger or smaller than the human norm. Think Arrietty, or Galactus. Now stop thinking about them. Now start again. Now think about them in a relationship built upon mutual trust and a shared affinity for post-punk. They are holding hands.
I will on occasion be posting about other subjects that are close to my heart: music, antifascism, the struggle for trans rights, the struggle to create a new world. The first, along with size, is a lifelong obsession. The others have been kind of thrust upon me over the last decade. I’m genderqueer, after many decades of considering myself a cis male who just incidentally wanted to be able to entirely change their gender on occasion. Look, we didn’t have a normative culture that supported even considering gender fluidity. The Butlerian concept of gender performance hadn’t really filtered down to the Elks Lodge.
As for antifascism, let’s just say that fascism came knocking (on my forehead) in 2017 and leave it at that.
Most of what I write is poetry, some in loose approximation of established forms (think sonnets, or limericks, although I haven’t written either). Most of it is very short. I like how poetry offers a flashbulb portrait, in medias res. It makes demands on the reader, and the shorter the poem, the greater the demand. In a sense, it forces the reader to participate in the creation of the meaning of the poem. Also, in a very real sense my brains were scrambled (see previous paragraph); a sizable fraction of my cortex has been dead for almost a decade now. I forget what I’m doing. I definitely forget what I was talking about, so I tend to avoid a lot of conversation unless it’s with very close friends, who understand. I can forget what I’m writing, even with it right in front of me. Brevity is my friend. And sleep. Sleep and brevity. But for the purposes of considering why I write the way I do, let’s just focus on brevity.
Finally, let me stress that I don’t know what I’m doing. Now, frankly, I have an odd relationship to not knowing what I am doing. If it’s in the arts, making music or poetry or painting or whatever, I can enjoy not knowing what I’m doing. The rules are suggestions. They’re good suggestions (which is why they’re rules), but they are non-binding and ignoring them is freeing. I hammer away at whatever it is I am doing with my forehead until something interesting falls out of either the artistic knot I am unraveling, or my head. Either way, it’s exciting.
On the other hand, not knowing what I am doing can terrify me. There is much I won’t even attempt merely because I am frightened of not doing it correctly. What can I say. I am large. I contain multitudes. Walt Whitman wrote that, and he couldn’t have been wrong about everything.
My point is that if you see something messed up, and you know better, then by all means, tell me. This goes for something as small as tips on using WordPress to something as large as a fundamental disagreement with my philosophy, or a lack of sensitivity or common decency and respect. I’m on Bluesky as tinierpissierfairy. I’m hilarious there. Everyone loves me.
Well, as the roadies say, let’s carve this turkey.
Size Writes 