https://bt-shaw.com/about daily 0.75 2022-10-11 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1597324655545-5KAEWYFV63VV64URYS9Y/current+w+frame.jpg Guff current competition: competition in which species restrict one another to niches that are smaller than those they would occupy were competitors absent (-OED Dictionary of Zoology; postcard; collaboration with John Charles Shaw; 2018) https://bt-shaw.com/contact daily 0.75 2023-06-30 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/d7ce05be-0b30-4824-bbea-0d628e3d49f8/11+June+2023.jpg Contact https://bt-shaw.com/-manual-of-small-wars daily 0.75 2023-06-30 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1488589225899-CGEPIM797ZY0GRRPIE3Y/manual+of+small+wars Small Wars https://bt-shaw.com/-radio daily 0.75 2023-06-30 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1488587470021-PB6CM6SVJNNVNFLJ0OK7/radio Radio https://bt-shaw.com/home daily 1.0 2023-06-30 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1592210171277-JHUKJ8056TZNMB57TW3H/imaginationmakesus.jpg Home https://bt-shaw.com/postcards daily 0.75 2020-06-10 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1580809649208-C1S9I7BFM3AVVQTPR0X2/c%2527est%2Bmoi%2B3.jpg Postcards https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1580991609658-DYJUE1PR3A2H0WPZ8HU2/sunflower%2Bdress.jpg Postcards https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1579596513805-VZSPNTFHVQ4AAHFKQ3QT/IMG-4158.jpg Postcards https://bt-shaw.com/not-my-door daily 0.75 2021-02-17 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1620970798016-F68VUN6I60DJN30S93GC/unseen.jpg Not My Door - once ye know, ye can't escape she reads the future in tea leaves, crystals, and cards. but her real gift is this: name your favorite chapter of moby dick, and she’ll tell exactly who you are. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1619703357338-WM6RLLUWNSC991QL3ZT4/cocoa.jpg Not My Door - he knows now it’s impossible to be everyone’s cup of tea when you’re actually a caffé corretto. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1618996052621-Y73C2G1M0DSB37279961/teach+a+man+to+fish.jpg Not My Door - give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. teach a man to fish, and you get weekends to yourself. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1618555170817-8HBRBTTNFKBUDHH7PD96/duolingo.jpg Not My Door - what she wanted was a smidgen of italian, just enough to flirt with the new tenant, but the language app appears to have other concerns. so far, she’s learned to order bread, introduce her non-existent spouse, and confirm that the bear does, indeed, wear the dress in the house. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1618380037774-XB4F4JM6Z5NQV0UX5Y26/break+the+spell.jpg Not My Door - none of those kisses —no matter how charming—will ever work. to break the curse, he must start speaking kindly to himself. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1617943681400-3JW4GZSC1CGKYDKIG3TY/geometry.jpg Not My Door - the better angel of their nature knows the angles, but the devil’s in the tangents. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1617771954923-7WBGN0F1HA7HQOYQD9F1/dooropenthink.jpg Not My Door - if wishes were horses he’d throw a rodeo for every kid ever yelled off his lawn. the quiet’s gotten too damn loud. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1617172549640-2O79D0PV571GKDB8HTJ2/wholeworldinside.jpg Not My Door - it was always there of course, neither patient nor impatient, waiting for him to pause long enough to notice. and now that he’s mapped its streets, knows by heart the changing moods of its hours, the songs of its river, he worries. is it possible to live in two places at once? what will become of the city inside when the world beyond re-opens? https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1616596783313-HEQNMJONLOQ0017N25J7/adtime2.jpg Not My Door - it's been 47 years, three marriages, and seven houses since someone rang the bell and asked, but yes, yes, absolutely, she wants to come out and play. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1615970878929-RFOTIODYX5HEGPLGBU9U/orange.JPG Not My Door - selfish, she knows considering the state of the world, and risky, given the wee folks’ whims, but if she were granted one wish, she’d wish that the last person ever to touch her not be the barista handing back change one year ago today. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1614679530156-9OPSWTKR897U77T3ETKV/verdigrisnolongersure.jpg Not My Door - nightclubs, yes and more so, to his surprise, those softer evenings. close friends, decent pizza, cheap wine. all the stories he knows by heart told one more time. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1613566053888-EZ0A1XP4VYGJKKDYYABZ/peekaboo.jpg Not My Door - she suspects her preschooler’s almost over peekaboo—but she’s nowhere near finished saying, ‘i see you.’ https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1613120731071-4J8LYGW99G0OXG5477DI/lovestinks.jpg Not My Door - 'j. geils slept here' you love her. but she loves them. and they love somebody else—and, honestly, that’s ok with you. there are worse things than caring for each other, love thinks. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1612876816777-R8ZMG1RHAOVDC9MKANBY/loudneighbor.JPG Not My Door - after months of disruption he now hopes his bickering neighbors can stay together long enough for him to finish the new dissertation: omg good luck with that: repetition without resolution in contemporary dance. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1611913763299-684KAIS5FHC7KWLKRQBB/doesntbelieveinghosts.jpg Not My Door - he doesn't believe in ghosts. but they believe in him. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1611666135328-GBOKFPB4JJWGL9SHVPCK/worldsapart.jpg Not My Door - after 13 years they’d rather believe in parallel timelines than ring the bell and introduce themselves. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1611330345549-WOUV2912R23WN76M8N2D/slagger.jpg Not My Door - how did they know he’s always wanted a red front door? https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1611065293003-T1TAQI84JX4364AOSFLQ/tiki.jpg Not My Door - she knows the exact moment she left god 37 years ago—but can’t say why, lately, she senses the split wasn’t mutual. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1610455736208-UXFTKWI78PAUU0FAFV0L/crosseyed.jpg Not My Door - she's decided as soon as the pandemic ends, she’s killing the lot of them. no choice, really. the spider, the snake, the prayer—even the ficus knows too much. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1609860128060-FDZZFDJSQ5BMT8396SEP/littlexmastree.JPG Not My Door - when they asked he packed up the holiday lights, but what do they know? as far as he’s concerned, the eggnog-for-one party’s just getting going. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1608622613276-WBHCK2Y4VEII0MS5VHY5/santashouse.JPG Not My Door - when his therapist says -think of a happy place, he imagines the house in summer. waking late to sparrows at the feeder, wandering into the kitchen for coffee and bacon, his dear missus already poking about the garden. no plans beyond puttering in his workshop and a nice curry supper. no phone or notes to answer, no emails to write. no elves, no reindeer anywhere in sight. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1607596978790-MCYTYWK94UWNOTCP7MFL/slats2.jpg Not My Door - he answered, -new gloves, but what he really wants for christmas is to say -i love you and have him hear it again as though for the first time. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1607418839711-IH0OUTEQ0OGTM8AB2L9Z/plague.jpg Not My Door - 'the plague stopped here in 1666' some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some don the masks thrust upon them. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1607003038307-60X9IAW6WM6FGXP0SF7N/yellowrose.jpg Not My Door - at 21 she would’ve scoffed, but now she knows: love’s quietest language is yardwork. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1606397097504-7U0GTZ8KPRL5MKUSBSA4/onedoor.JPG Not My Door - 'when one door closes, another one opens,’ he offered. ‘thanks for the warning,’ she replied. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1606229206891-3NZCD62LHUXDPHEDWVAT/owl+3.jpg Not My Door - he hadn't always been this way, wandering the garden all hours, seeking signs in bats’ script overhead, in ripples left by wigglers in the birdbath’s basin. settling for brown bottles, crushed tablets, match flames. night after night, unable to articulate an answer. night after night, his friend the owl, asking just the same. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1605797174649-H1YH86N7PJ1WTASZ9PE7/poppy.jpg Not My Door - if her family has taught her anything, it’s this: folks who say, —well, i never! most definitely have. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1605618474250-XNYMGBGBKAKTQ6NQV88L/allwood.jpg Not My Door - he's learned how to say thank you in seven languages, coffee in six, i love you in four, i’m sorry in two, and can you tell me the way to in none. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1605189586934-NN04HH12UD15PAY9UTN7/estate.jpg Not My Door - on cloudless nights if you press your ear to the wall where the door should be, they say you can hear—like the sea in a shell—the voice of your mother, endlessly calling you to dinner. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1605000484866-EC8MOADWUYIT3OZ3XLW7/anywherebuthere.jpg Not My Door - lockdown? travel ban? no matter. winter is a state of mind, and they’re spending theirs in morocco. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1604588265420-3LC7CTFUKEGZTQM4RM4H/beside.JPG Not My Door - he knows time may not mend all, but at least he’s no longer beside himself. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1604395425276-NBS27EMIYV4WHFYLXQKA/hope.jpg Not My Door - hope may be the thing with feathers, as emily dickinson said, but the pandemic’s shown her it’s no bird. it’s a velociraptor trapped in the kitchen. and she’s no little old lady—she’s 49 kilo of kickass, refusing every morning to let it go. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1603353993085-J4R7A6UKU0QCZYBLNLCD/my+door+open.jpg Not My Door - this is my door and it is open. its span is wide—better yet, it is only one of many, many doors for which no secret’s too strange, no problem too wild, no night too dark, no sorrow too deep. for anyone who needs to hear this—for all of us who have needed, will need to hear it: you are not alone. please, do not give up. please, please: knock. (or call: for a list of resources across the globe, click here.) https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1603184341696-8X8B0P4TG3Q9R19QXFOU/song+for+2+voices.jpg Not My Door - their love is a song, and that song is john cage’s 4’33’’. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1602765154374-VDS9XP0TS4V03YKB4Y8Q/mousehole.jpg Not My Door - he loves her so much he’s stopped caring that she calls his continuing investigation into the viability of hyper-dimensional portals -playing with legos in the garage. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1602595897452-39QDL67SPE3JJ48LKA9I/%23267+green+shadow.jpg Not My Door - she knows her anger is a knife with no handle—but she fears it less than having nothing to hold onto. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1602241986124-1FAS1D4XG7NMI3B2MNAJ/seeagain.jpg Not My Door - the original practitioners of surveillance capitalism. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1601978020889-0QNAPB3QSE0IEQTQAW62/time+travel+lilou.jpg Not My Door - they promised to meet again in avignon, but by the time june rolled around, lilou’s family had moved with no forwarding address. -what is love? keats asked in a poem lilou read to her on a sweltering afternoon by the river, post-hike. forty years later, she has an answer. love is a time machine operating outside the realm of quantum mechanics. its nuclear engine splitting not atoms but us, everafter here and here and there, all at once, beside ourselves. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1601628788364-OHRHM5CT9JPNBDS7XJ0P/tealandgold.jpg Not My Door - doomscrolling again last night, she learned science now says the average human body is, in reality, only 43-percent human—bacteria, viruses, and other microscopic beasts compose the most of us. instantly she felt able to forgive her wife. and herself. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1601372583748-215GKPBMH93PVZSO3TR5/gate+herringbone.jpg Not My Door - he's made more beds than he can count, and all but one were lied in. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1600950030175-PYN63VV4YV8BCPHZIHM1/calculations.jpg Not My Door - she's done the calculations and decided their love is like goldbach’s conjecture: completely certain, impossible to prove. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1600780917973-7UB77KMSRXEOEZ8NQ1LD/%23257+taj+mahal+bread+oven.jpg Not My Door - last night he dreamed he was a boy again in jakarta, throwing rambutan at the gate of his family’s compound until the guard gave chase. both of them laughing, the elderly man catching up, so close now, reaching a hand—he started awake just as the guard touched his shoulder. he could swear for a second the air smelled of cheap soap and sambal. coffee and cigarettes. petrol exhaust. popcorn. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1600355236458-YYLCON7J9FQ6CP269NNJ/%23268+sunny+etched+rectangle.jpg Not My Door - as it turns out his father was right: everything looks different in the morning. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1600160879291-WBTMCJGW6HF7WS4YV1P3/%23265+wiggly.jpg Not My Door - she likes her lovers the way she likes her wine: smooth, rich, hint of noble rot https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1599741976346-PJ6DYMKRAVNFZO4I6EY6/castledoor+part+2.jpg Not My Door - when had he become someone whose best friend was an owl? though, admittedly, friend might be too strong a word, implying a balanced exchange that, given the owl’s limited communication strategies, wasn’t realistic. they were allies, maybe. or associates—like mobsters with the goods on one another, jittery and insomniac, unconvinced they’ve got their stories straight. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1599118264033-DDPVA3XUMUHBCZQ7KNWK/gonefishing.jpg Not My Door - gone fishing back in a week https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1598949911038-NF5JHOVUY3T30GUP8Z33/grownupstable.jpg Not My Door - ready to admit they’re done with the grown-ups’ table. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1598539887352-8UD7I6SEGHOLAFFDZM61/uncertain.jpg Not My Door - one autumn night he dreamed he would compose a piano sonata to rival mozart’s no. 18 in d major, but would die before the world premiere. -it’s nearly finished, he’ll say tonight to his face in the mirror. -just one more day, the mirror will reply as it has for 22 years. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1598335931736-C5A1W2RQXP64T38UNE0U/red+house+white+door.jpg Not My Door - they've learned tricks to keep the marriage alive. turning alcohol into regret isn’t one of them. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1597934292326-U0Y1VUMDEWYKGYWSRZO6/brainheart.jpg Not My Door - -why are you like this? the brain screams. -why are you not? the heart murmurs in reply. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1597754394279-YDB9U04OSLM14JV67Z28/mementomori.JPG Not My Door - before scattering their father’s ashes, they both took a pinch. one for a filigree locket worn close to the heart—the other, an heirloom poison ring, sized to her right middle finger. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1597297240852-HDX376H5KXRM3003ISMM/zombie.JPG Not My Door - scheißenfreude /ˈʃaisnˌfroidə/ noun: pleasure derived from the sale of toilet paper, stockpiled for the zombie apocalypse, to relatives who’ll mock you no more https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1597140922312-WZGXS6GBLWSOUM57ZZ2Q/pixies.jpg Not My Door - all these years and not once have the ghosts done the dishes. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1598448076086-AJAM4ZPA8N7I99BLOZCC/pink+flower.jpg Not My Door - she's learned she can make people laugh, telling how her uncle once agreed to swap his big-screen t.v. for a drunk’s baby. it’s a really funny story, now that she leaves her mother out of it. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1596543639600-FNJ55ANIAUUUP9IKU5Z8/chicken%2Bface.jpg Not My Door - if only they could have stopped seeing her as somebody’s mother. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1596119975994-0D91IWC4KGOS11DPPE6Z/blue+and+white.jpg Not My Door - halfway home tonight, darling nikki in his airpods, he’ll suddenly realize all of the songs that make him feel most alive are now sung by the dead. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1596116855262-DTAQ57N117VBC5WKHH4K/triangle.jpg Not My Door - actively seeking acute woman for stable threesome. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1595511089076-PJPNN4H5BP8W7YZCLP6P/castledoor.jpg Not My Door - the following night he proposed a mutually beneficial arrangement: —i’ll not say what happened to the cat if you keep quiet about the bottle in the oak. the owl on the arbor blinked twice. —seems we have a deal, then. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1595331817701-G2XCJN46A7DODMCOF7T5/pink+flower.jpg Not My Door - she wishes happiness metabolized at the rate of grief. and vice versa. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1594989702633-Z7ATG0RF28LFCB94A6LR/coffee.jpg Not My Door - he watches her scanning headlines at the table while he supervises the melitta and thinks, for the 17,432nd morning in a row, –best. sleepover. ever. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1594804337092-N2NDJTW3GZ1ABBBUMRTJ/reflect.jpg Not My Door - in her reflection she sees the woman her parents told her she would be—and the man who plans to outlive them. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1594370942806-3HOOHUU7AER7S3GQ3N5F/mortgage.jpg Not My Door - no dungeon just dragons trapped under a mortgage. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1594191800800-BYIDL47MTLRM243D7QMW/galaxydoor.jpg Not My Door - ­–what do you want to be when you grow up? adults would ask. –an astronaut, he’d reply to smiles and nods. never adding he hoped to discover, beyond the stars, a god more receptive to prayers than this planet’s. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1594024715575-01RRST9HN8JFZ3UQJQ3W/reddoor.jpg Not My Door - every night she pulls off another, making it up as she goes. how did this happen? when did she become the goddamn scheherazade of suppers? https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1593787309903-LA8EMYZMHMX3CVCUGBF9/colorofhereyes.jpg Not My Door - seventeen summers ago sunlight strobing the morning commute, she looked up just before his stop. he can’t recall her face. he can’t forget the ocean of her eyes. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1593589643042-0QPDWDY71PHINV8KD1WT/parens1july.jpg Not My Door - he glanced back hoping she had lingered, waving. never mind. anyone could see there’d be more to their story. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1593155720798-QIRI7XK04T6HBEMDA9YJ/%2332.jpg Not My Door - she's forgotten her first kiss, the name of that boy, though not her first kiss in love. sixteen, a field outside avignon, the others seeking shade in an old monastery. still holding hands, lilou, her face bright as a second sun. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1592976274795-XPGYGP9PKVHKM25LZL14/24June20b.jpg Not My Door - he was tired of disappointing himself. maybe it was time to start disappointing someone else. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1592800833682-QAUQQJLFX8ZI126MB5G8/voices.jpg Not My Door - in their last moments alone, he said -i love your brothers, but you are my favorite. legend has it the words were magic, fortifying each son against telling the others. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1619701482170-OQP34ZU5PR87BXU5TQAW/cocoa.jpg Not My Door - they know he isn’t everybody’s cup of tea, and thank the gods he’s their caffè corretto. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1592549915964-823SG815Q1RXVR698HTE/geraniums.jpg Not My Door - her mother hated geraniums, so she plants geraniums. just in case there’s an afterlife. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1592372737011-WTZM53CRBS90Q4YFEQ8V/16june.jpg Not My Door - hours earlier they’d been strangers in a bar—come morning, they’d be strangers again. but for a few porch-lit moments, they clutched, immortal, in a silver-tone Klimt. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1592372703368-NSFYOFO5SKBK13R9DU50/%2320.JPG Not My Door - suddenly the spell lifted, and the princess saw she’d been her own evil stepmother all along. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1591784438828-D92YN4XW3JUA4RVUJOHD/1.jpg Not My Door - every few months he wakes to a faint scratching, but he stopped checking years ago. by the time he’d make it down the stairs and open the door, nobody was ever there. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1591784539500-9IOSW1DBSLEHNWXGQ6NX/2.jpg Not My Door - the corollary to no one gets in is no one gets out. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1591784556751-RQNN26RZLZLJ537VQPOV/3.jpg Not My Door - she realized back at his place, post-speed date, she’d misunderstood when he’d said he prefers boxers. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1592035773983-HU5D6VQWSRBB453DKY90/%232.JPG Not My Door - absinthe makes the heart grow fonder. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1592036087168-9DSH0C7JVSD5NSAFQK80/not+my+door+5+maybe.jpg Not My Door - over her protests he planted wisteria the year the twins were born. he promised to keep it trimmed, and for 37 years he did. now that he’s gone, she wonders how long the trellis will hold. thrills each spring as tendrils reach for her. https://bt-shaw.com/progress-report-kate-fenker daily 0.75 2021-11-23 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1632132885533-3FRLIC9B0HQY8S6IP73S/linen.jpg progress report - Everything else can wait 19 September 2021 BT— Hi. I’m allowing myself to sort of limbo under the raised bar, for the sake of momentum. I can’t even remember what the past several weeks held, but I’m on a roll in the studio. It worked to put studio first, and when something threatens to intrude, tell the robot to put it on a list for after work. The photo shows part of a puffy canvas extension to one of the drip paintings. It looks good now, hope I don’t fuck it up! XO —Kate PS. Please elaborate on any and all wheels and whirligigs, reinvented or otherwise. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1630835014127-L4K85X8AJHZ7OJF3TKZJ/jet+lag.jpg progress report - Where were we? 05 Sept 2021 Kate!— Apologies for the lag (part jet, part par for the course). Despite the 7-week lapse and its attendant flights (none fancy), I didn’t bail entirely on work this summer (evidence here: thanks you, Amanda!). And now—now I'm back, reconnoitering, re-inventing wheels and whirligigs. Please tell me how you are. What you are making. What’s flying, what’s landing. All of it. Every drib and dab. X!O! —BT P.S. Sculpture is Shine by Ronald Westerhuis (one of 50 works in ARTZUID 2021). https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1626064543088-Z8WGWPXHP9C8ET4NR5X9/limping+fools.jpg progress report - Limping fools 5 July 2021 BT— I loved your postcard. Just cementing that showing up for the work and trying (thrashing around on the unforgiving pavement) is worth a thousand flights of fancy that only pretend they aren’t safely caged up. I feel so much [better/worse] expecting to disappoint myself, and succeeding. At least it’s a real confrontation. XO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1625491903091-32J4WS2YPS727V1LC7E8/feather.jpg progress report - All flutter, no flight 5 July 2021 Kate— Today, like the last month of days, was OBE* but let the record to show I sat at the desk and hollered in your direction, which isn’t nothing. XO —BT *Jarhead for Overcome By Events https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1623316786012-36GQ4Z2F82GYF8FGLAV1/flowers+will+have+to+do.jpg progress report - Flowers will have to do 09 June 2021 BT— I ❤ that postcard! Even after you mentioned the heart, it took me several seconds to find it. I was looking for something small and obscure and missed the giant and obvious. Still no new art-work-in-progress to share. What is going on is getting my schedule back on its feet, as it started to slide with the unpredictable events of construction and side hustle. With a bite already out of June, that August 1 submission deadline is coming right on up. s. It’s very clear what I need to work on—keeping the inevitable intrusions of life from utterly derailing me. XO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1621951877095-RKPN16GHJWFDI16VBCPH/heart+of+wood.jpg progress report - Wood eye (could I) 25 May 2021 Dear Kate— So excited for you! finally connecting the ups and downs. Those stairs are worth their weight in lumber—which is nearly the price of gold right now, so. Speaking of which, I came across this tree a month ago, during an obnoxiously early wander through Vondelpark. The wound was new, a gash slashed by some noun, probably human, though I don’t know enough about the park’s fauna to say for sure. In the early morning light, the wound glowed, seeking witness, and I obliged. Back home, though, I saw the images I’d made were ambiguous—the damaged phloem? cambium? was, naturally, under the bark, yet in a trick of pixels, it appeared to flow over the tree’s skin…stared at long enough, it looked to be both places at once. That was five weeks ago—I’ve played around with those images at least a dozen times since—and in all that messing about, I failed to notice the heart carved into the trunk until just now, when I uploaded this pic for you. I think I need stairs, too. In my brain. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1621326901795-3RRRWBVD2DU0SERRMVMM/awkward.jpg progress report - Awkward! 16 May 2021 BT—There's dust everywhere, and stuff is all pushed out of the way of the studio staircase project—so it is in the way to everything else. I know you know how discombobulating this whole thing is. Around the edges, I've managed to get the banana slug kaleidoscope almost done—and keep the dust off. Here is me trying to take a selfie with the stairs while avoiding weird reflections in my glasses. Once more, with feeling! XO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1620202642288-V7V3J5SUGKXLOTLRSMVO/tulip.jpg progress report - 'The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals' -Sylvia Plath (1960) 5 May 2021 Kate— In keeping with my latest soft-things-made-from-hard-materials obsession, here’s a tulip with teeth, trapped not only in pixels but also in memory of a particular stroll (Amstelveenseweg—a street that explains why New York City just as easily could’ve been New Amsterdam) with a particular soundtrack [Anti-Nowhere League (thanks to you, you blasphemous lamb; Bikini Kill; Defiance, Ohio]. Last time we spoke, I said my aim was to Not Be Every Fucking Where, yet here I am, again, pinging when not pogoing: witches and capitalism and heat pumps and parent-teacher conferences and non-fungible tokens. “Confessional” poetry. 19th-century indentured servitude, porcelain vs. ceramic tile, letters owed, letters unreturned, Dave Chappelle (“…it’s just like the idea says, Get in the car. And I’m like, Where am I going? And the idea says, Don’t worry—I’m driving”), wild parakeets in Vondelpark, mean ducks, Swansboro, tonight’s dinner—shakshuka? lentil soup? Feed me, Seymour. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1619082308839-SK58M25YTZF403MAL3IJ/wood.jpg progress report - TBT 22 April 2021 BT— What a sky! I was thinking about that reluctance to let go—making things—maybe it's putting stuff into a form that can be shared and not wasted. I sure like the idea of a t-shirt made of zippers! Speaking of both t-shirts and Marie Kondo, I did learn from her book (I read it! I confess!) a great way to fold my t-shirts, which has become second nature. Which reminds me, Audible just awarded me a "Dabbler" badge. Am I being irrationally reactive if I find that insulting? How derailed I sound. I'm doing a horrible job of getting back to art. XO —Kate P.S. I wrote the above last week, and the last part is no longer true. The photo is of organized scrap wood in the basement a couple of days ago, marking the transition of the basement space from occluded to amenable, and down I go. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1618376459657-JWQMD03A6XAX91D3J0DV/out+of+amsterdam+sky+from+highway.jpeg progress report - To have, to hold 14 April 2021 Dear Kate, After we talked, I downloaded the Oblique Strategies app, and the very first thing its algorithmic oracle offered was, “Destroy nothing / the most important thing”—as though it took a look at my desk/inspiration board/work surfaces and dropped a diagnosis on me. Your zipper collage brings me Joy! which makes me wonder if I’m the Anti-Marie Kondo, followed by a desire to some day commission from you a t-shirt constructed entirely of zippers. Here’s a sky outside Amsterdam, captured 18 December 2018 from a moving car. I wonder if everything I’ve made can be explained by a reluctance to let go. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1617884349305-GDD2GHLTLETDVEPTRWGV/zips.jpg progress report - Zip 8 April 2021 Hi, BT. Am I doing what I said I would? What was it I said? Did I tell you one plan, then tell JainaBee a different plan? Do I remember either? I do know I was supposed to be in the basement, but it is bitterly cold and windy today, and I'm not going down there. I'm pingpong-ing around in the upstairs workroom, which honestly does need me to finish organizing it. Do I take orders from inanimate objects? How did I accumulate so many shoulder pads? Zippers? Why did I make all those numbers? I had a fun new idea for them, but now I've forgotten. My level of hope for the day is like the crust of dried brown coffee at the bottom of this morning's cup. Listening to Driven to Distraction. It is my sincere hope that you are doing better than this. XO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1617263833298-6OQ38DQ21XJE14JTUL3V/solar+shadow.jpg progress report - Roshambo 1 April 2021 Kate— Here are some rock shadows, caught by the sun and trapped by chemistry and me. Captor, captivated, captured—I wear many hats, and most of my pockets hold at least a pebble. I’m not skilled at surrender. I do, though, know a good tablescape when I see it, and your ephemera roundup is, to quote A., “fabtaculous.” In the Small Victories Dept., I have managed at 9:15 (thanks for your “set-an-alarm” advice) for seven mornings almost in a row to cull the inspiration board. Gone are three postcards, an inexplicable torn scrap of penguin wrapping paper, a 2018? 17? advert from a Soho science/art store (from which I did scissor a skull for the collage heap), a notice from Multnomah County saying my 2020 absentee ballot was on its way, and cardboard branding from my favorite underwear brand (Thunderpants, 10/10 recommend). Yours in figuring out how to know when to hold, when to fold—BT XO https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1617094618715-I26IO9KK7KI1SR0I9SG1/ephemera.jpg progress report - You must choose (or not) 29 March 2021 BT— Well, that Calvino quote put my head in a tailspin. I think the problem with building is that it requires decisions, and decisions mean putting so much aside, and it's all so good. Even as I type this, I suspect that any and all interesting material will have a chance to soak back into a decision, the decision providing the organizing scaffold. What kind of scaffold will accommodate stuff like this? A tableau that sort of inadvertently created itself, just one example among many around here of art objects and ephemera I really like and am not sure what to do with. XO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1615905358154-FNP1C6YXIWE4KPRQ6QW8/london+tree.jpg progress report - 'Futures not achieved... …are only branches of the past—’ -Italo Calvino 16 March 2021 Kate— “Down the rabbit hole” is a phrase coined by weasels, who envy rabbits’ reach, their wild burrowing through the dark for connections. Rabbits, of course, wish they could embrace the concept of singular purpose, even as they fear the weasels’. Wil says 48 open tabs are proof of an active and restless mind—but I’m pretty sure they just mean I’m more comfortable digging than building. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1615209071412-PLCWUQXY8P17ODWPVS6X/purple.jpg progress report - Purple pill 5 March 2021 BT— Do you think the idea of "going down a rabbit hole" is weird? I mean, it makes sense in a case of a misguided investigation that leaves you more in the dark than when you started. But it seems to get used to describe any dedicated quest. Usually going it alone? Maybe people unconsciously want to throw shade when they feel they're not invited? Or maybe I'm just going down a rabbit hole. XO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1614589051315-80SI0PUV7L9SN1JJ4HWH/againagain.jpg progress report - Fail better 1 March 2021 Kate— For the first time in 10 long school vacation days, I’m back at the desk, about to open the Ida drawer—yet again starting again. Thanks for talking me down before dawn—you’re right, at least I saw this latest roadblock coming. Stop, start, rinse, repeat: Not a particularly exciting cadence, but acceptance is a kind of step, right? So, here I am, and here I go. XO —BT P.S. Turns out I can crochet while appearing to follow complicated narratives concerning online gaming, so I did manage to finish the sweater, woot. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1613803887011-1KICD82YAFNPWS2H0WAO/20feb21.jpg progress report - Spring is a mess 20 February 2021 Hi BT— Shuffling things around again; the big pieces are downstairs, and new stuff on the table up here. I always know exactly what I'm going to do, right up until I actually start. I'm now horrified. At least those other 2 are almost done, pending some mounting/stretching/varnishing jazz. Hope Ida likes her drawer! XO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1613314293118-3DK7WEEOO52KGV1BAGGI/nowherefast.jpg progress report - No-spin cycle 14 February 2021 Kate— I may be getting nowhere, but I’m getting there fast. This is not as pessimistic as it sounds. There’s more to motion than velocity. This week’s plan: 1) finish the sweater I started in August; 2) settle on a direction for Ida and set out (that is, stop stopping before I’ve begun); and 3) there is no 3) because the longer the list gets, the more listing I tend to do. How go the bricks? the blops? Beaming you warmth across continents and seas XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1613066522225-23FPEJW5JD2OF627PVSB/blops.jpg progress report - Bricks and blops 11 February 2021 BT— The only thing better than getting The Thing done is getting awesome shit done, but I can’t really work under those conditions. Squamata says, “You just gotta do what’s easy.” If nothing’s easy, though, can a reasonably satisfying relationship with work be developed? This friend is currently feeling peaceful absorption in completing old painting-things and beginning new ones. But it's impossible to transmit a state of mind, and I've never even been able to will anything upon myself, it just happens or doesn't. Here's what I think: make the work something you can relax into. Make it your refuge. XO —Kate P.S. I love blanks. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1612363840566-JZX6DJMKKY565S7X8FOM/rain+story.jpg progress report - Between the lines 03 February 2021 Kate dear— What if it’s all blanks? Asking for a friend. Your Friend. Me. XO https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1611580952637-13Q5BTKV88LKO9P97SXM/banana.jpg progress report - Neither here nor there 25 January 2021 BT— I could pick up on fluffy snowball cookies or angle off into my new hairball idea (i.e., connecting to the world via the internet is barely a connection—like, what you are mostly connected to is the internet, nothing else. I embraced the computer-phone-everydevice phenomenon full-on, even with its obvious dark sides—I was a total fan. I thought the internet would make it possible to live anywhere without losing touch with the cosmopolitan world. But here I am, inside my house in rural Oregon, so comfortable in this chair, with its telltale worn-out cushion, staring at a big, glossy, glowing rectangle, observing that I've stopped paying attention to my real surroundings in favor of the screen. I’m so mad. And if I'm going to turn this situation around, even maybe make the internet pay me back, I need to invert the ratio). Instead, speculating on your observation about social anxiety flourishing in the absence of actual socializing: Maybe missing the social metadata from actual interaction sets off a stress response while our brains struggle to fill in the blanks? Flavoring our impressions with unconscious panic? Which leads me to thoughts of…Bowie and Warhol. Instead. XO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1610965129556-O7U8L02C5WHDLIIGDCMF/roundsnow.jpg progress report - Traces 18 January 2021 Kate dear— Nice boots! Wish you were here, making cloven prints to my door. Thoughts floating through my skull’s snow-globe: the weather outside * the weather inside * whether curiosity has a role not only in habit cessation but also in formation * Pinurbo’s corpse imagery in his poem “Bangkai Banjir” and whether it’s a sly reference to an Indonesian idiom (He laid the corpse on the hilltop) for shame * Mexican Wedding Cookies, aka Russian Tea Cakes, aka Snowballs * a banner in Museumpleain protesting the lockdown: Covid-vaccin = vergif * social anxiety’s mysterious ability to thrive sans actual socializing * how much can depend on the seemingly small respects: thank you and please and I’m sorry. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1610615902262-MFOZGJ1QHDXG304PQTFK/splittoe.jpg progress report - Accidental psychedelia 14 January 2021 BT— Wait—sewing scissors and Rocky Road ice cream—what?!? And did you catch any? Squirrels? I have to show you my new shoes instead of what I'm making now, there's an NDA again. But what shoes! I've wanted these forever and finally won an auction. Also, this secret puppet I'm working on is strangely fun; I must be on drugs or something. Purple pearl paint pancakes are drying downstairs, something for next time. X —Kate PS. Plenty of rain in Portland, too! https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1609839537125-7I15MLGF9GVNGK5QJ92W/squirrelgirl.jpg progress report - Scurry flurry 5 Jan 2021 Kate— I think you are right: Making the schedule is more Spell than Plan. Its magic is in the making, not in the following, though also its potency doubles if I do manage to follow it, though so far this week all I’ve chased are squirrels (e.g., did you know sewing scissors feature in one version of Rocky Road Ice Cream’s origin story?). If your sparrows don’t fly with the Techspressionism folks, don’t worry—they’re spectacular! and going places. There is so much rain in Yoko Pinurbo’s poems. There is so much rain in Amsterdam in winter. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1609353032182-0XFADDJYFXEJ820QM805/sparrow2.jpg progress report - Clambering along 30 December 2020 Hi BT— If I look at my side of the Progress Report, it looks like I'm getting worse, but I think it is just rocky terrain, slow to get through. Your translation project is thrilling—I found some of his translated poems to see what they are like. And, yeah, the schedule. I can't seem to remember to stick to the schedules I make, either, but making them seems to (at least temporarily) organize my intentions. What do you think? Anyway, here is the next sparrow version, but I might just go ahead and use the earlier digital one for the Techspressionism entry. I couldn't tell until working through it. Slow going! But I'm now free to do totally different stuff, so yay. I look forward to your translations. XO —Kate PS. Isn't it weird there is/was Rocky Road ice cream? https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1608797962347-75BA9DUIPQRM8VEM4RU8/floodcorpse.jpg progress report - Hellooooo 24 December 2020 Kate— It took me all but the last two weeks of 2020 to devise a workable writing schedule, and I don’t have hope, really, that it will survive once A. returns to in-class learning, and I know I’m late, my whole life late, but then again who says? I guess I don’t care in this moment how long it took: Words feel good again. I’ve been (slowly) translating small poems by Joko Pinurbo, and there’s a line in one that literally reads a silent gap between bright lines. Thanks for continuing to construct this ride with me. Committed to seeing where it goes XO —BT P.S. No appointment needed so never late for Free-Form Therapy From an Ice-Cream Truck. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1608558692957-O3NLU1TBEKT8BABAS9QB/trilliums.jpg progress report - The scenic route 21 December 2020 Hey! Speaking of radio shows, here's one that's fun for working: Primal Ice Cream With Solo Mon on WFMU. And here's a picture of a piece that is awaiting a shower of purple iridescent pancakes. And yeah, my train is lurching along, funny how you technically can't be off the tracks if you're laying the tracks as you go. You (meaning me, in this disjointed message)... can still be late, though, I'm pretty sure. XO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1608046113990-CL0LGUUMD58E4KO1ZWNT/Ronsgastro2.jpg progress report - Mind, the gap 15 December 2020 Kate— The cloud says I have too much saved, gmail says I have too much saved, my desk says I have too much saved. If only my brain. If only my word count. Open tabs include The Wide World of Disease-Based Dutch Profanity; Friday Night Fish Fry WCBE 90.5 FM; Goldilocks by Roald Dahl; Mind’s Eye—A Sensory Guide to the Guggenheim. Every morning I think, Maybe Today. Every night, Maybe Tomorrow. Hope your train’s moving faster than mine. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1607666532411-ZA9J6BSYPWCZVBVRMM12/glitchyrainbow.jpg progress report - Bonus question 10 December 2020 BT— That's a lovely photo with your grandmother. I see what you mean. Fortunately for your coveralls, the glitchy rainbow goes all out of the lines, and isn't cooperatively wearable. Although if you insist, it could be embroidered directly on. Once again, I filled in the subject line, then revised my content entirely. I have no idea what I am doing, the studio feels like the trash-compactor room in Star Wars. Between that sentence and now, I talked to my sister, and I feel better. What you said about love. xo —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1607335758753-JMX7YHU7AL5S4UFYDPK2/iterations+of+Ida.jpg progress report - Hand-us-downs 7 December 2020 Kate— Thank you for asking: The more I search for photographic evidence of Ida, the more I believe she’s only to be found in faces I love. My sister came across this pic over the weekend (holy bubblegum Lip Smackers, those perms! OMG)—she’s the gorgeous brunette behind my brother, my arms are wrapped about them both as well as our grandmother, Ida’s daughter. After lunch I’m going to print it out, tape it above my desk—if, as some papers I’ve read lately say, trauma can cause heritable changes, then maybe love does, too. A thought perfectly illustrated by a Sad Glitchy Rainbow—may I please pre-order a patch for my work coveralls? Yours on schedule and off— BT XO https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1607183806636-KHNZEM99ZH36ES28SFF3/sad+rainbow.jpg progress report - Meanwhile 5 December 2020 BT— I gotta say, you give great reflection, popcorn-head or no. Hope you are feeling better. Have you seen Ida lately? I made a schedule. I set alarms to remind me where I'm at all day. I still go outside the lines, but at least there's a framework. I've been making patches for 2 days at least. I think right now I will stop and make the sad, glitchy rainbow. XO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1606727622723-ZAE3YAX07LNNTXBLZRCH/inthewindow.jpg progress report - Over and over 30 November 2020 Kate—My brain this morning: Popcorn popper sans lid. Broken copier. Mycelium pushing up here and there, in no recognizable pattern. Startled rabbit. I think I’ll sit down now, make a list without hitting the Delete key and without drinking more coffee. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1606470308785-C0289863Y7YTSUSRZX44/armillaria.jpg progress report - Ignore the crosshairs …Easy to do, because I changed my mind about what postcard to send, and this one doesn't have them! I think this mushroom is the same kind as the giant mycelium under Eastern Oregon, popping up right in my yard. There are like a hundred of them. Tracks: Trying as hard as I can to get the UFOtofu store up and running. Next, a sad rainbow mutant embroidery. Then, in the basement there's a very peaceful painting-ish thing I hope to finish next. Bet you had to do Thanksgiving! Sorry. Oh, heck, maybe you like it a little. XO —Kate 27 November 2020 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1605864211331-GW1DEIYT4IVVVOJI7SKQ/brain+on+fire.jpg progress report - 20-watt thoughts 20 November 2020 Kate— This morning I was thinking about our tracks—the ones behind, but also those we’re laying without knowing precisely where they’ll go—and suddenly I wondered if ‘brain speed’ is an actual Thing, so I stopped writing (any excuse!) to Run and Find Out. The answer is Yes! Neurons can pass information at a top speed of 250 miles per hour—which, to be honest, didn’t mean much as my own cerebellum was stuck on the problem of ‘miles’ as a scale to measure distance in a 3-pound fatty organ. I did, though, both comprehend and recognize this part of the article: Apparently the average person has 12,000 to 60,000 thoughts per day, 95-percent of which are repetitions of THE EXACT SAME THOUGHTS thunk the day before and 80-percent of which are negative. Yours in fighting our wiring— xoxo BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1605705668856-6Y120OICJQU8F80NTKZV/muslin.jpg progress report - A world you can live in 18 November 2020 Hi BT— I just finished a book in which the author talks about the stories we tell ourselves to fill in the unavoidable gaps in our knowledge. How we need to feel like the world we operate in makes sense based on what we know, otherwise it would be too hard to get out of bed in the morning. I think "get out of bed" could also be taken to mean taking action, with any kind of confidence or purpose. I think my stories have absorbed too much complexity, that I'm way too aware that I don't understand anything, and maybe I have grown a Head Maze, instead of a helpful narrative. On the subject of duplicating work—hello those wedding programs—copying something start to finish is a Living Hell! But I really enjoy designing a process, breaking it down into small bits, then assembly-lining it. I don't mind at all cutting out hundreds of pieces, if I'm confident in my plan. (Is this similar to acting inside a personal narrative??) Although I've had a horrible time bringing the project to fruition, I can't stop working on these stupid masks, and I still think having the UFOtofu store on my site is a good idea. And...maybe it will all make sense someday. Lol. —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1605520837344-PQR03OQ2XU9VHNHLEK2E/headmaze.jpg progress report - Round and round 16 November 2020 Kate— Twenty years ago, I volunteered to hand-collage covers for my brother’s wedding program. I expected to happily repeat a single design 200 times, but within two iterations I was bored. New plan: Each cover would be unique—and with that, a project I thought might take three weeks of evenings/weekends instead consumed four months. In the end, was I happy with the work? Yes. With my process? Absolutely not. If I had it to do all over again, would I do it differently? I want to say Yes, but I know the answer is No. “The Heart wants what it wants—or else it does not care—” Emily Dickinson wrote to her friend, Mary. So, maybe you—we—don’t have as much choice re. What We Do and How as we believe. Maybe our hearts decide, then our brains play catch-up. And maybe Art We Control and Art That Goes Sideways aren’t necessarily in opposition. E.g., your coutre-worthy mask is meticulously executed but also a fabulous fuck-you to the whole pandemic vibe. Maybe Ctrl + Alt = Shift (i.e., Real Art). What do you think? XO —BT P.S. Show me the muslin! P.P.S. Copied into the notebook last weekend: “The error is not to fall but to fall from no height” (Dean Young; The Art of Recklessness). https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1605258673218-YO1N4M9DS0FL17UZBZ7M/goldgoldbaby.jpg progress report - Maybe this will all make sense one day 13 November 2020 BT— As soon as I send this, I'm going downstairs to put dye blobs on muslin, so I can proceed with the glitched-out embroideries. But first I made this mask because I promised a friend, and look how nice!* And I was planning (you know, months ago) to make a bunch of them (which I totally designed and prototyped and quit for no reason) to sell in my online UFOtofu store, which is pretty much all set up—except for being put into public existence. Now, we hope, there's an end in sight to all this mask-wearing. I think I'll still make a bunch, but I have to do it Right Now. xo —Kate *And why am I doing this, anyway?!?! At this point it's kind of a sunk-cost situation. Or is it? What isn't? I would like to have a whole conversation about art we control, and art that goes sideways, and how I want to kick butts attached to people preferring the sideways, although they are almost certainly right, and I'm so annoyed. But look at this mask that is made so nicely—and looks like any number of other people could/would/did make the same thing, so why should I bother. It's the epitome of Why?? echoing from a hole of my own digging. At the same time, I'm pleased with it. Help. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1604927612578-W0J914WFRY1B8JXZB11D/glass.jpg progress report - 'The earth turned to glass' 9 November 2020 Dear Kate— Thank you for this—I needed it 4 November when hope seemed shattered. What a difference a few days make. Nothing’s yet changed, of course. That’s going to take tremendous effort, i.e., break down and build up. But nothing’s the same, either. As I type, I’m listening to a slow-mo version of Living Mice and wishing I were an animator so I could, outside of my own mind, watch your sparrows soar through the disintegrating present into the untold future. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1604578405080-A5E3FXCWI2WVSECXYGKI/sparrows_breakup.png progress report - Taking things apart Image: _Sparrows’ Breakup_ (partially corrupted digital embroidery design; Kate Fenker, 2020) 4 November 2020 BT— It's so sad, and I'm sorry I never had the chance to know him. Weirdly, now, I get to in a small way. I was thinking about the idea that a person is only completely dead when the last person who remembers them is. I was thinking, the first person's consciousness is gone, then the remembering-peoples' consciousnesses, but no one can really keep track of the ripple effects of a life. We're all in this bubbling pot. (It's not reassuring or anything.) xoxoxo —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1603693119635-HPD8L0DOLTS6PEI5NR3O/23+oct+2020.jpg progress report - ... . 26 October 2020 Kate— Apologies for the delay. Last week our family lost a dearly loved young man. We’ve never felt farther from home. I tried writing you earlier, but each time I sat to type, the ordering of sounds into sentences seemed—I don’t know. Feeble, maybe, in light of grief’s violent disorder. Which was right-hearted, at least for a few days, though wrong-headed in the long run. Si had been studying to be a mechanical engineer—he loved knowing how things work, which means also knowing how to take things apart. Photographs show he loved dapper clothes. Those closest to him know he loved art. A fan of precision, a fan of chaos, as his mom puts it. He was one of us. Here’s last Friday’s sunset over a canal near our home. Because of the pandemic, family will not be able to fully gather to celebrate Si’s love and life, so his parents are asking we light candles at dusk wherever we are. If you’re inclined, please add your light. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1603363031682-SANZVXDNSVQ53VGFGOCK/peckpeckpeck+by+kate.jpg progress report - peckpeckpeck 21 October 2020 Hi, and stop hitting yourself! I realized I do it all the time. To the exclusion of anything else I think about myself. It's not that we don't deserve the beating (well, you don't, lol!). It's just that it is clearly a narcissistic and pointless waste of energy. I'm going to try to steer my thoughts outward as much as possible. The Last Puppet Hairdo is happening today. It's a triple-track week starting tonight! X —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1602853636986-WZWT0K7W39D1YTSJ3JKK/dirty+art+take+5.jpg progress report - -Perfection may be perfect... …but to hell with it.’ —Harry Smith 16 October 2020 Kate— What I think is: Rougher But More Beautiful is the right track. I can hardly wait to see where it takes you. Takes us. Yours in Raggedy Realness —BT P.S. XO P.P.S. There’s this anecdote about William Stafford and his poem-a-day writing practice, how an interviewer asked, -What about those days when the writing isn’t going well? and Stafford replied: -Then I lower my standards. I’ve never particularly liked that story. For one thing, it’s always seemed soft at its center, easy and overly sweet, like stale caramels passed out at Halloween. Also, I’ve come to recognize it’s not standards I need to lower—it’s my gloves. To get anywhere new, I gotta stop hitting myself. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1602758314720-KO39SJV3OA0WZJKRL3KQ/kate+cape.jpg progress report - I was, well, dead, but it wasn't about me 15 October 2020 Hi BT! Here’s a weird composition featuring one of two sequined cloaks I made for the desert wedding misadventure. Jaymes and Nikki ended up with a lovely a.m. ceremony on the last day, as the storm passed and the sun came out. This time next week the puppet work will be done! The best I have to share on the art making front is a new resolve to make much messier work. I made the 2 cloaks (hooded, with velvet on the inside) in ONE NIGHT, and although they aren’t very nicely finished, and do look costumey, it was a great learning experience. I think if I had started with a sort of abstract-expressionist couture idea, I could have made something rougher but more beautiful in the same amount of time. So as soon as I’m on the loose, I’m going to embrace this raggedy M.O. Applying it to the current puppet heads is probably not good, lol. Somehow the messy approach is braiding together with a lack of ambition that’s maybe depressing, but also liberating? Demonstrating whatever degree of maybe irrelevant technical skills is maybe totally boring and useless? What do you think? XOXO —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1602232737450-UQ5GHSY2OE60MYA0SIU2/worm+hotel+bt.jpg progress report - Wormenhotel 9 October 2020 Kate— On the morning walk to school, Miss A. and I were funneled onto an unfamiliar route that ran past this hive-shaped wooden structure. I still can’t read much Dutch, but A. translated. She said it was a Worm Hotel, then insisted I hear the whole story—what the worms eat (plant scraps, yard debris), what they don’t eat (bread and plastic, which kind of sounds like a punk band), etc. I nodded and smiled, not saying what I was thinking: Worm Hotel: Where all of us eventually check in for the big check-out. Ulises Carrión defined a book as “a sequence of spaces…a sequence of moments.” I’ve decided to decide I’m never not living the work. The sequence of moments is the life is the book—so if I stop separating work from the work of living, I will, like the worms, always be getting shit done. XOXO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1602160488751-NPR3G4ORDS5NVG8A2YF2/till+death+crop+kate_Fotor.jpg progress report - Xoxo xoxo 8 October 2020 BT— Embroideries for my friend’s wedding present! They glow in the dark. They’re going on matching glow-skeleton sweatsuits. Have you been able to live in your work this week? —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1602160739299-TKI6TJ93YSLD5MQ670WW/robot+blowing+bubbles_Fotor2.jpg progress report - No primate, no cephalopod 2 October 2020 Kate— OK, I’ve abandoned the monkey butler idea, and the pedagogical octopus is on tonight’s entertainment docket. In the meantime (aka, all of 2020), here’s a photo of a bubble-blowing robot. Your new color reminds me of the sweet light that bookends summer days—a good choice as fall blusters its way in. Inspired by your choice, I visited the salon yesterday—I thought the stylists would be wearing masks, but surprise! no masks. I stayed anyway, desperate for a cut, but today I’m pretty sure it wasn’t worth the exposure risk. This week in Ida news, still no photographic evidence of her life (yes, though, there is now a gravestone, or so I’m told—haven’t actually seen it in person). Also, I did not manage to write her a paragraph a day. On the plus side, I’m not out of tracks. And neither are you. The struggle is real, but let’s keep going. XO —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1601445897009-M8YF9SXQWQXHRY69QUSM/kate5.jpg progress report - While I'm at it 30 September 2020 BT— The puppet hair invasion at least prompted me to improve my own hair. Thank you for the pep talk! I think I will check out that book as well. I love hearing your thoughts and discoveries about Ida. It is a great project, and I will keep bothering you about it. Is there actually a headstone in the cemetery now? You are the one who needs a monkey butler to do the cooking. I’d take cleaning though—although it’s not as if I have any trouble ignoring housekeeping. It would just be fancy. I haven’t been doing the best job with laying down tracks lately. There are a bunch of things (outfits for my friend’s wedding, scanning photos for my Dad, an embroidery for wedding-friend’s present) I have to do this week, as well as puppet hair. Tracks are still the best plan, and it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve struggled to implement something that eventually becomes indispensable. Have you seen The Octopus Teacher? On Netflix? XO —Kate P.S. Monkeys doing hair washing or cooking would be absolute mayhem, omg. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1600941008665-RDP3ADQE404HI2SXS5EQ/mary+rose+edit2.jpg progress report - P.S. Stay fabulous 23 September 2020 Kate— This is Mary Rose, my grandma, at age 14. Her mother, Ida (whose story I’ve been chasing for a decade) died when Mary was 13 months old. Her father quickly found a new wife, who destroyed all traces of Ida. For the rest of her life, when my grandma looked in the mirror, she looked for her mother. Mary hated the pictures the nuns took to mark 8th-grade graduation. So she scraped together enough money for her own photo shoot at the five-and-dime. The fur, the pearls, the makeup—the girl in the photo is poised in more ways than one. Very soon she will lie about her age to find full-time employment and leave home before her third stepmother has the satisfaction of kicking her out. Yesterday I started the audio version of Jenny Lawson’s Furiously Happy, a book “about” depression, but also “about taking those moments when things are fine and making them amazing, because those moments are what make us who we are, and they're the same moments we take into battle with us when our brains declare war on our very existence. It's the difference between ‘surviving life’ and ‘living life.’” “I AM GOING TO BE FURIOUSLY HAPPY, OUT OF SHEER SPITE,” Lawson proclaims—before? after? (I can’t remember as I was, coincidentally, in the shower)—something about having a monkey butler shampoo her hair. Glamour. Lipstick. Cloche hats. Camp. If I had a monkey butler, I’d order him to make and freeze two week’s worth of dinners, then overnight express him to you to help get the hair out of your hair. Here’s hoping you again can wrap your arms around a gold lamé train ASAP. —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1600842136684-RHDR9NPO62SFB3ZT973F/puppethair.jpg progress report - Like crime-scene evidence 23 September 2020 BT— Do you have a photo of your great-grandmother or other people in the cast? Sorry this postcard is so creepy looking, and in poor focus to boot. I'm pretending it is hairballs extracted from my brain. —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1600340673412-YDLDYRX5DENLLKHP0FQ3/wheniseeatrain_Fotor.png progress report - 'Laying down tracks' MOCA t-shirt based on Raymond Pettibon’s 1986 drawing , photo by IronAtwater (IG @ironatwater) 17 September 2020 Kate— It’s Thursday. Yesterday I saw Jason’s description of the city we once shared: ‘The night air is a shroud of ash and uncertainty and distant ukulele music. Portland is so hardcore that we fight nazis and eat raging hellfire without losing for a moment our manic pixie Twee. It’s like Apocalypse Now directed by Wes Anderson’—and have been thinking about it ever since. Today I’m wrapping my arms around a train that sounds like the proof to the infinite monkeys theorem. Open tabs include The Shooting of Jacob Blake, Martin Van Buren, and the Egyptian Book of the Dead (whose actual title, apparently, is closer to Book of Emerging Forth Into the Light—some white dude messed up the translation and, of course, his error became Fact). *OK, then. Here I go. —BT *The Online Etymology Dictionary says ‘OK’ is the sole relic of a fad circa 1839 in which common phrases were deliberately misspelled, then acronyms created for comic effect. ‘OK’ was born from ‘oll korrect’—a joke now DOA. XO https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1600239312417-HKCSXJBG3BJF9TRONZ5V/kate4.jpg progress report - Everything I actually care about 16 September 2020 BT— It's still very smoky and nasty here. I found a method for a DIY air purifier using a big box fan and furnace filters—it's that bad. Totally desolate outside. Haze and dirt over everything. No going out in the yard, no walking or running. Taste of smoke while trying to go to sleep. Worse, even if the government changes and there's action on climate change, I can't see any reason why this will not continue to happen every year for a long time. The smoke was tolerable for a few weird days, but now my lungs are very unhappy. Who knew masks would be such a thing. 2 masks at once! How are we supposed to afford all this junk? Anyway, here is stuff I'm looking forward to reconfiguring into compositions when I'm done with puppet hair—wait! Not exactly true—I'm working on them a little bit every day, "laying down tracks." —Kate P.S. Is it true that OK means ‘Zero Killed’? P.P.S. The DIY air purifier is pretty cool; you take a 20" box fan and turn it on, and put a 20" filter on the back, and the suction of the air holds it in place. You just have to watch out in case the strain overloads the motor and it bursts into flames, lol. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1600239413653-KZZQUFXBUVRV2ZFSTUMF/bt+4+maybe+fleabane.jpg progress report - Stuck between To Do and To Done 16 September 2020 Kate— We’re reading Watership Down aloud—one of us for the first time, two of us for the forgotten-how-manyth time—or we were. We got 2/3 through, then 2/3 of us knew there were Hard Pages ahead, and given the pandemic, the fires, the surreal fictions fueling the election, we stalled out. I had this idea to make a small catalog of the plants in the story—I thought it might jump-start our return to the book—but this (the misnamed fleabane) is as far I got before the white gel pen ran out of ink, and doom scrolling took over. If work is the railroad track, worry is the dastardly villain twirling his mustache at the switch. Please stay safe. Please keep going. Please do what you care about most in between what you must to survive. Please. —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1599633784907-KD94UYV49ZQZKBXZTS6W/kate3.jpg progress report - It seemed like a good idea at the time 9 September 2020 BT— I make stuff like this! What are all these bits and pieces? Now what? If I just knew how to scrape it all together, arrange it just so—into what? A wall piece? A coat? I can't see it. But when I look at all the stuff, I like it so much. Oh, and there's more. Um, a lot more. —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1599633811807-MW4OX89D171LHZJF1UWA/Collage_Fotor+bt2.jpg progress report - Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hide 1 September 2020 Kate— I looked it up: Frivolous is still a word and is still deployed to describe the empty, silly, and trifling, though its root is a Latin verb meaning to break, rub away, crumble—which takes strength and edge and flexibility, so maybe it’s time for its definition to evolve. I got called a self-righteous old cunt the other day by a man I knew best when he was a boy and I was a girl. I think he meant to shame me for expressing…an opinion? while female? and of his vintage? Labels are so exhausting—I think drag queens are onto something, and that something is: Everybody, stop hiding your light under a box. Next time we’re in the same city, please do my makeup? and let’s go dancing. —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1599633805065-4PWJ126FRK6T7R6SJ8YB/kate2.jpg progress report - The patriarchy is at it again, and my hair is on fire 1 September 2020 BT— I finally understand why I find drag queens so fascinating. It is that they are actually empowered by their feminine side, and not only that, but by unapologetic artifice as an art form. Doesn't it seem women have been made to feel like enjoying femininity is to take a step back, a step down—and that artifice is frivolous (is that still a word?) and a sign of insecurity or something? —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1599633803213-AV226CBHCMBOZMWB2ZQ8/bt3+foto.jpg progress report - Start, start again 9 September 2020 Kate— A helicopter pilot I knew in Ohio once told me his ideas were like paper towels at a picnic: lost in the breeze. Mine are more like ants: obsessed, but all over the place. Open tabs on my phone: Grasshopper mouse (tiny, howling rodent) * Calcium calculator * Notice of DMH Records Destruction for Bryce Hospital, Tuscaloosa, AL * 6th and 7th Book of Moses * Patricia Lockwood Writes In To London Review of Books * Candy Land Summer Jumper (crochet pattern) * _The Persians_ (Aeschylus) * Sarcastic fringehead (small but very hearty saltwater fish) * _An Illinois Burnt Offering_ (Dr. J.F. Snyder) * DIY planked floors * genealogy page for Joseph Henry Sechler (1844-1883) —BT https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1599634019812-XHLJ6J8X4CPYRELHVIJD/kate1+no+frame.jpg progress report - It's better to lie, but I suck at lying 25 August 2020 BT— Here's the stale mess on my cutting table: making these fun masks mixing eastern motifs and western styling, except I keep modifying the pattern and I can't get a single one completed satisfactorily. I think I have a problem. —Kate https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1599634027587-9KNA4ULT0GSSGGVDCNN2/kate1.jpg progress report - In the park between Van Gogh and Westwood 25 August 2020 Kate— Late last summer I snapped this unintentionally fabulous collaboration between avarice and neglect because I thought you’d like the dress—you see it, too?—as much as I do. Sometimes the ruby is a hat, sometimes a moon, sometimes a smirking demon in a diamond dog collar. I don’t want to choose. —BT https://bt-shaw.com/psy2 daily 0.75 2020-10-04 https://bt-shaw.com/psychology daily 0.75 2023-07-01 https://bt-shaw.com/new-page daily 0.75 2023-11-01 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/d8e781a4-9346-467f-9bc5-fca9b186b6bd/kate+2+plant.jpg what time is it there - Make it stand out —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1698808054043-VRNSS6JXFM6CAGM31SHX/bt+2.9.jpg what time is it there - 21:10 PST, 07/08/23 -bt https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1691468757820-IWVH664DC7TG5ZPFN6HX/kate+6.29.23.jpg what time is it there - 07:46 PST, 29/06/23 —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1688077934097-RFBAO0YPS2XBM3MCMMT8/bt+redo.2+1.jpg what time is it there - 10:34 PST, 21/06/23 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1687368813554-RT74QQHFX2FGRTM8RXLP/kate+last+pic.jpg what time is it there - 15:41 PST, 10/06/23 Time it is. —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1686608606604-NBN992U6I98M8B52C6DL/bt+cloud2.1.jpg what time is it there - 20:02 PST, 02/04/23 I lost two months, staring at the sky. —bt https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1680644817678-LJ1OXCZQU08GO46IPZW8/kate+2.latefeb.jpg what time is it there - 11:31 PST, 09/02/23 What does it mean? —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1676916349319-HAGQGX2JKTHF2LW1ET2W/bt+2.8.jpg what time is it there - 10:29 29/01/23 Sometimes I get a little stuck. -bt https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1675127492535-LNJIHNAQIOKJTW58PNBP/kate+2.6.jpg what time is it there - 20:39 PST, 10/01/23 Almost always the middle of the night. —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1673479383263-8TAVHFIPVLN9W3XPNRXB/bt+2.7.jpg what time is it there - 16:25 PST, 31/12/22 If Meret Oppenheim and Father Time had a baby. —bt https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1672594211037-9S7VDBZNZ4WMMLP60GOA/kate+2.7.jpg what time is it there - 15:18 PST, 18/12/22 Meret Oppenheim. —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1671553365907-AGDYM0KPJYCPGDVEJEAY/bt+2.6.jpg what time is it there - 07:24 PST, 08/12/22 Hurtling: Ferry Edition. —bt https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1670511894264-2S9GI4X810BSDBROGXXF/kate+2.5.jpg what time is it there - 18:21 PST, 02/12/22 I rewatched Don't Look Up last night, haha boohoo. I'm glad Jupiter is doing its Jupiter thing and isn't a giant meteorite hurtling towards us. —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1670018628510-V03VG69PMJLR3W4BGI4L/bt+2.5.jpg what time is it there - 07:09 CST, 19/11/22 There’s always more than one line between the present and the past. —bt https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1669261929734-V6CK5PKSEXW9XOES553A/kate+2.4.jpg what time is it there - 23:29 PST, 12/11/22 The present ordeal. —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1668528151779-NHR5SRP6Y8N8FUA0ZVJ2/bt.jpg what time is it there - 09:56 PST, 08/11/22 So cold, three blankets weren’t enough, yet there was the moon before dawn, loud and half-dressed between clouds. —bt https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1667934076530-JZJ7AL80AGVRNAJ40MMU/kate+2.3.jpg what time is it there - 22:00 PST, 28/10/22 Tiiiiime! —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1667153629895-W6FRZ0I3E5DZ3105FATJ/bt+2.3.jpg what time is it there - 08:39 PST, 26/10/22 After wind, after rain. —bt https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1666890342228-9S3G08HYBL3E7FI7HG4X/kate+2.2.jpg what time is it there - 19:55 PST, 21/10/22 I abandoned my old approach. —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1666497198413-COBVCW7NS8NKAU4SIKGW/bt+reboot+2.jpg what time is it there - 14:41 PST, 13/10/22 Five days later, the paper wasps abandoned their nest and their lives. —bt https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1666149766176-EJITZ8W43CA6VUS0SL2A/kate+web.jpg what time is it there - 12:54 PST, 10/10/22 Liking and liking. —kf https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1665506524073-23TYW8W0OMIQQPYQNJBB/bt+hi+again+30+sept+2023.jpg what time is it there - 18:23 PST, 24/09/22 Friend in any country. -bt https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1664563812235-K569HBVDHZYBP0NRSEAX/bt27hand.jpg what time is it there - 10:11 CET, 14/05/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1652540052580-LN0R1SN7TH5F894FVCW3/kate27.jpg what time is it there - 21:31 PST, 07/05/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1652096636286-PI1MJW4JWSIGGPTSNG3L/bt26real.jpg what time is it there - 10:59 CET, 05/05/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1651754556628-XKOCXA2UVQJE9AN2P7BA/kate26.jpg what time is it there - 22:40 PST, 29/04/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1651315377762-1MJWLG6B6HWKR8LSYEHL/bt26.jpg what time is it there - 08:35 CET, 24/04/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1650959051765-4W1B3576324FXX9XUEOS/kate25.jpg what time is it there - 01:48 PST, 22/04/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1650621289163-IBAL0AIHRUJHY5GZ0G85/bt24.jpg what time is it there - 08:39 CET, 20/04/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1650464839618-ZUKLI6AJOYN5152NS953/kate24.jpg what time is it there - 20:32 PST, 16/04/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1650189955595-A2FEOK64EANXBC66NWN0/bt23.jpg what time is it there - 10:31 CET, 11/04/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1649833625405-Y5CW5NFR5QS6YD79V34F/kate+apple.jpg what time is it there - 11:13 PST, 07/04/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1649438291972-3XBN0XILA0XZ9AHERBFP/bt22.jpg what time is it there - 14:41 CET, 04/04/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1649080274836-DP8Q7WZ4I0QRPI58FB5N/kate22.jpg what time is it there - 03:35 PST, 01/04/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1648813653569-F394MVW07QM1TSWNUEF2/bt21peel.jpg what time is it there - 08:02 CET, 26/03/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1648466417553-FN8TG5E4TS369VKRF5CO/kate21.jpg what time is it there - 23:54 PST, 24/03/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1648220896699-72YH40F9NP3J0NG2TMS5/IMG-2540.jpg what time is it there - 11:34 CET, 22/03/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1647963797268-A0FLFR0UFX8VJZMLGFNX/kate20.jpg what time is it there - 14:52 PST, 16/03/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1647589867784-0W0BHEMWL0TJ5IE8NYHF/bt19a.jpg what time is it there - 15:50 CET, 14/03/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1647335435631-CBFKRL2182I50UH2NQRH/kate19.jpg what time is it there - 00:36 PST, 12/03/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1647072788909-UOQA008KRJR8WHCV7Y6S/bt18a2.jpg what time is it there - 08:38 CET, 09/03/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1646894648331-WXVKODWUYWSCPLA3WKG5/kate18.jpg what time is it there - 21:25 PST, 03/03/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1646575297000-36H8AQGUMN6UE9AE73JK/bt17.jpg what time is it there - 16:55 PST, 01/03/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1646240799722-E7754L6P1MC4TJY9Q5KM/kate17.jpg what time is it there - 20:57 PST, 24/02/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1645815831989-BMP4IFOC2FCUEM9PC9BP/bt16.jpg what time is it there - 07:48 CET, 22/02/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1645545470240-3LYNWS17SHNCZIAYLGWV/kate16.jpg what time is it there - 21:37 PST, 17/02/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1645219392946-B892IDH68PBFRP4NEMVW/bt15.jpg what time is it there - 09:15 CET, 15/02/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1644967000087-7GRK6K3PGY8JK32PT3OK/kate.jpg what time is it there - 19:21 PST, 10/02/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1644562289341-2F1QQZGAPUBEVHFZGG0T/bt12.jpg what time is it there - 09:06 CET, 08/02/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1644334775979-5X43NNF3UZB9I3UBHBBR/kate12.jpg what time is it there - 23:50 PST, 03/02/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1643965113680-GPLI35TO22TJCQCP3KK6/bt11+floral.jpg what time is it there - 15:52 CET, 31/01/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1643704389842-4HHKIYEW7GZ40PQHKNF0/Kate11.jpg what time is it there - 00:38 PST, 28/01/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1643376297132-S7ITA66S01VV9CR9KS49/bt10knob2.jpg what time is it there - 15:38 CET, 24/01/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1643039679823-F6NIG9GHU9G2QDPWFZBT/kate10.jpg what time is it there - 23:54 PST, 21/01/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1642751981994-FNFB38VT7QNTQ9Z0Y1KW/bt9a.jpg what time is it there - 10:14 CET, 18/01/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1642497354386-EGCR811P2G7ZUL41KE1E/kate9.jpg what time is it there - 02:07 PST, 14/01/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1642176452209-0MRMAR3ANW3384CW60LQ/IMG-1799.jpg what time is it there - 12:32 CET, 11/01/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1642781197784-GAKMQWCY8BOYBX97SKCY/kate+replace.jpg what time is it there - 00:19 PST, 07/01/22 And also 00:03 21/01/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1641551034511-6DNKSLB16CF53P1P1B4C/bt7face2.jpg what time is it there - 15:18 CET, 03/01/22 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1641223753713-JYEM42GELN3BXROJ4FSR/Kate7+black_pantyhose.jpg what time is it there - 21:57 PST, 30/12/21 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1640940113303-CDCKL5ZLXZO3G4ZP1S4I/bt6b.jpg what time is it there - 10:16 CET, 27/12/21 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1640713677390-L5WESED1OKGZ4CAMWHCL/kate6.jpg what time is it there - 21:37 PST, 23/12/21 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1640355859403-L6O01IAD561D77EGLVOD/b5c.jpg what time is it there - 08:58 CET, 21/12/21 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1640088439717-X2AC1OIV1ZL0XDLIIOQV/kate5.jpg what time is it there - 01:04 PST, 17 December 2021 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1639748861860-X7MY80BZR0ECKOSA66G3/bt4.3.jpg what time is it there - 11:08 CET, 14 December 2021 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1639477438034-YTWZYFMQE0E74C9YF87Y/kate4.jpg what time is it there - 23:05 PST, 9 December 2021 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1639477446296-KD1ER1FKAJ65Q8SQOOJ6/bt3globe.jpg what time is it there - 15:59 CET, 6 December 2021 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1639477461858-KUXZBOR38RLRGUBDVI6S/kate3.jpg what time is it there - 03:27 PST, 3 December 2021 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1639477463640-AFQZJE7P4RB3QJO2NCD8/bt2maybe.jpg what time is it there - 10:53 CET, 29 November 2021 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1639477483508-E6FJ1IJTH82LL6POEKJH/kate2.jpg what time is it there - 02:34 PST, 27 November 2021 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1639477496412-GP3CPE68LX5ZQHQV3MCU/BT1.jpg what time is it there - 09:42 CET, 23 November 2021 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/1639477508154-BNCDZ904D205PB4IZN6D/Kate1.jpg what time is it there - 23:56 PST, 18 November 2021 https://bt-shaw.com/shake-it-up daily 0.75 2023-06-30 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5054bfcee4b02b42cb2ed622/d58618d5-e14c-46bb-9add-3a7847c5200a/Screen+Shot+2023-06-30+at+3.39.26+PM.png shake it up - Make it stand out Click to read. (Cover image by Mel Kadel)