Feels like another in-between time again. I took down the Rainbo show, changed out some art at the bookstore and updated my published crap page. I put the presidents and alley paintings up for sale in my store. I don’t know that any of this shifting about has any effect really but it gives me a feeling of motion, of not just sitting still. There’s now too much artwork in this house. It needs to go away for good, one way or another.

The Melville book is coming together. Feels different somehow than the seven I did before but I’m enjoying it.

There’s a new monthly poetry series at the bookstore. Young, serious people. They have their own scene and don’t wreck the bathroom. I’ve gone to three of their nights and heard a few good things. But even the bad stuff is clearly done by people who’ve spent time wrestling with phrases rather than just nursing imaginary grudges against a world that doesn’t give a rat’s ass, doesn’t even know they draw breath. These are not the delusional types who take up three seats with their plastic bags of precious belongings and talk through one another’s performances.

Their series is called Comportment after all.

There’s an article about the alphabet book in a local rag and I’m quoted in this one about shitty Elena Ferrante covers and you can buy this book about Midwest miscreants I did a cover for.

You can now buy a cassette of me reading from Moby Dick.

K and I started a movie podcast.