For this much delayed Issue 012 of Dispatches from the Feral Fringe, I’ve gone and done some redecorating. This is one of those projects that “gets worse before it gets better,” transforming from a heartfelt and vulnerable collection of memories into a mapping and building endeavor. As people have become more entrenched in the “new normal,” the harder it is to reflect on Covidtimes and to share my experiences living in the Feral Fringe. I’ve started to realize that this version of society is an actual place, and I need to understand and communicate this better.
The learnings and discoveries in the aftermath are still coming, and they need to be applied more quickly and skillfully than what I’ve barely been eeking out. The luxury of playing damsel and languishing in reflection is something I am no longer afforded. As someone who’s still in the Fringe and struggling to find a way to a less volatile landscape, I can’t simply be an armchair philosopher without taking up actual life- and world-building, whether that’s in the Fringe or someplace new. If this feels like a rough work in progress and lacking polish, good. A design exercise marrying words and images, this newsletter is topography, wayfinding, liminal space, and placemaking all in one.
It may seem as though a touch of whimsy has infiltrated the Feral Fringe. Do not be alarmed. Yes, the wordmark is waving, gentle like the rolls of the kiddie coaster at Six Flags. It’s fun without overdoing it. You might find the new visual direction to skew a bit obtuse, what with all the objects that are obviously wrought with symbolism but you’re not quite sure how or why. But the ultimate goal is to bring an invisible world into focus and model a more spatial Feral Fringe for all to know and enjoy. Thank you. Have a nice day.
And now a word on relationships.
This week was my father’s 70th birthday. Just typing those words came as a surprise because I was doing the math as I wrote them. That’s 7-0. Seventy years of life on this planet: 17 as a child first raised by abusive drunks, then by blind grandparents whose furniture he’d rearrange while they were out; 43 as my father but more than 50 as a dad in total if you count my older half-brother whom I’ve met only twice; and nearly 25 as the life insurance policy for my nasty stepmom, a racist booze bag from Mississippi. I haven’t spoken to my father since December 26, 2018. We never had much of a relationship, but I do find that I miss him. I miss a lot of people, as my world in many ways has gotten very small here in the Fringe. I’ve been thinking a lot about my relationships, not just with people but with food, money, myself, God, etc. A lot of good conversations have been had recently about the nature of ourselves in the context of others, and it really comes down to two things: timing and communication.
“Timing is everything” seems like a cliché, but it really holds true. How many times have we met someone that seems like they’re a perfect match, the only catch being we’re in relationships already or aren’t in the right place (physically or metaphorically) for it to work? We have to shrug it off and hope the universe is working its magic in the background, chalking it up to fate having its way with us — once again. I can’t help but wonder “what if” sometimes, having found a yin to my yang not too long ago. A friend reminded me, however, that yin and yang only touch and never overlap. This bit of wisdom helped me realize that I need to be a whole me first, and right now, I am far from that.
The other important thing in relationships is communication. The words we use — and when we use them (timing, again) — matter. Now, I tend to over-communicate at times, as evidenced by these lengthy newsletters. But there comes a time when we all need to just shut the fuck up. Burrowing even deeper in a hole that you’ve just dug doesn’t do anyone any good. Knowing when to walk away is a skill that requires some time and experience to master. Realizing when to speak up or not to speak up about something boils down to being clear on your values and what your boundaries are. Most of the things we think are important at the time end up being petty in the grand scheme of things. Often it’s the principle and not the content of an argument that stands in the way of building healthier relationships. Listen to me, pretending to be an expert on such matters, having had many failures in life and love. I really should take my own advice. So with that, I’ll stfu on relationships, at least until next week when I talk about my eating disorder.
Covidtimes afforded me the opportunity to nurture my passion for photography. Therapeutic nightwalks revealed a gentler, more peaceful side of Chicago that I’d never seen or felt — big and empty yet warm and embracing. Camerawork evolved into a meditative practice, balancing total presence and hyper-awareness.
I picked up new skills and tried different techniques, all the while capturing some of the most mundane subject matter imaginable. These were moments I doubted anyone else would’ve documented, but despite their fleeting, forgettable nature — for me they became sacred and intimate. I’m proud to present my first curation of work from the past three years on my new photography site, brilliantcrop.com. Take a look, and buy some? Pretty please.
The key now is to keep your attention. Because attention is currency, and the power grab over your eyeballs and clicks has never been more fierce.
The readership has grown slowly and organically. I’ve done very little promotion to have garnered a motley crüe of patent attorneys, working moms, line dancers, Satanists, government officials, hackers, Florida men, lesbians, art directors, Venezuelans, radio personalities, psychotherapists, students of massage and actual masseurs, poets, artists, Lyft drivers, financial analysts, graphic designers, and Zen masters who take the time to read these long-winded missives. For that, and for you, I am incredibly grateful. I hope you find something useful, entertaining, or worthwhile somewhere amid the messiness. Thank you for bestowing some sense of purpose and duty upon me as I make sense of life in the Feral Fringe.
So what will satisfy your insatiable appetite to be informed, inspired, and sometimes distracted? How can I stave your boredom and provide you with cocktail party factoids to fill the dead air? Let’s find out. In the meantime, I’m looking for work (take a look at my full portfolio site, brilliantcrap.com, and feel free to share far and wide), so please upgrade to paid if you’re able, and I promise compelling content will keep coming. My best.