Redshift

Visiting one's own archives

I lost one subscriber last week, maybe because they were put off by my continued calls for a PERMANENT CEASEFIRE NOW. If so, good riddance to them! If that person left because of a reason related to my writing, then good riddance to them as well!

Very easy, the coming and the going.

But maybe that person also unsubscribed because I started this newsletter with the express purpose to talk about making a short film and I…haven’t done that. That would be fair; after all, one buys a product on the promise of the shopkeep and this shopkeep lied. Obfuscated, really.

Really, it was that I thought I’d be in active prep when I started writing this, and I wasn’t yet, so I’ve been making it more of a thought cum dumpster, if you will (and I will!), until I have real things to say about IDLE/WILD. That day is growing closer!

In the meantime, I’m enjoying the mental exercise this space and its attendant needs affords me, in part because I used to be an essayist as — if you can believe it — a career. Recently, I got the chance to revisit that chapter in my life when a friend and I decided to put on a show where folks read their writing live in front of an audience. I decided to unearth an old piece for the occasion, and was delighted to find one I’d forgotten about from 2009. Remember 2009? What a time to be alive.

It was very interesting to go back in time with myself to myself: A 25-year-old who wasn’t yet out as queer, who was still considering what having children might mean, and who had some serious questions about gender but nowhere to ask them.

So here we go. Enjoy, and see you soon. Unless you unsubscribe, in which case: Bye!