Pep Talk

I have a plan for this upcoming summer, but I don't know how to put it into action.

Basically, I want to travel the country on a rockhounding tour. I plan to visit Oregon, possibly Arkansas, the North Shore of Superior and Thunder Bay up in Canada. If I can get my shit together by then, I can contact folks with private mines who take guests and learn how they do their stuff.

Maybe I'll meet some other hounds who know good collecting spots and stay with them as well. I may hit rock shows and talk to the people who work them. Ask how they got into their line of work and take notes and advice. They give it freely to others who have the bug, I already know that much. I wonder if people in the rock business take apprentices or interns. At the very least, I can join the Minnesota rock club and go on field trips.

One thing that's for sure is that I'll never break into this business if I don't get out there and do it. And I know I can do it. For all that I feel like I'm completely adrift and incompetent, all I have to do is look back to 2004 and see what I did with conventions despite having clue zero. Despite being WAY more messed up than I am now (god bless you, therapy and the soothing affects of maturity), I made plans. I bit my lip and jumped into the chaos and it all worked out beautifully. I think of the hours of travel and the hard work and it makes me nostalgic as fuck.

My fear of burning out on what I love to do should not hold me back either. I have never been as enthusiastic about going to conventions as I feel about fossil and crystal hunting, but I still like them just fine.

There is nothing to be afraid of. I have a charmed life and I have support. If it blows up in my face, I have a hilarious blog entry to share with the world so you can all taste the schadenfreude. If it all works out, I will have knocked down a huge portion of the wall between myself and a Genuine Sense Of Meaning In Life. I know what I want and it's all about dirt and sweat and sunshine. It's what I've always wanted, and only now that I'm older and starting to define myself as a person can I admit it. I've begun to understand that I, Luka Delaney, have a genuine Passion and can follow it. All these years spinning my wheels and it was right there, but I never thought for a moment I could seriously do it. It never even occurred. I'm slow like that.

I love art, I love writing. I'm well aware that my talents in the creative field will not win me any great status in life, and I'm OK with that because I do my shit well enough to satisfy me and get my ideas across, and that's awesome. I'm always getting better, always learning, always impressing myself in new ways. But I don't want to attach pressure to these things, and that lack of fire holds me back from turning art or writing into a genuine Career. I love creative stuff, but I NEED to explore my world. These things can co-exist. I know what I'm doing. Admitting that my largest drive lies elsewhere won't make me give up on my art, like I used to think it would. Why quit doing something I love just because it isn't my entire universe? That kind of flawed all-or-nothing thinking holds me back way too much in life as it is.

What I need is my own permission.

All of this makes me excited as hell. And worried. Most of all, it makes me insanely, giddily optimistic. I can realize all of this if I work hard. I need to train, plan, save and scheme. No excuses, just jump the hell in and watch the results.

I've driven through all but three states in this nation and I can read a map. I can't get lost, I won't be murdered, the planet won't throw me off. There are no excuses left, only problems to be solved so I can move on. No fucking way am I wasting another year sitting on my fat ass, feeding my life to a glowing screen so I can watch other people live my dreams and continually sigh "If only!"

You all have my permission to quote this entry back at me if I get discouraged or whiny or angsty later. I have a habit of shying away from big plans when they start to feel tawdry, once the glow of euphoria wears off and I start to second-guess myself. Right now I have clarity, and no matter how discouraged I get later, I won't be able to take it back. Can't even fuck with what's already been said on the internet.

"They say my reputation precedes me
I don't know the meaning of off season, I ain't taking it easy
Ain't taking a day off, never had an off night
Never been laid off, I live on the job site

It all pays off though when I squint in the spotlight
And see your lips are moving to the true shit that I write
And we gon' be alright every night of my life
It's my night cause I view the future like it's hindsight

I ain't waiting, I'm patiently persevering
I see greatness in the person in the mirror very clearly
And that's why I take this seriously
Baby come near to me and truly, truly hear me."

So basically, I want to be like Brother Ali when I grow up.

(Well get to it, dork!)

AFK! Con season

Wish me luck! I'm off to North Carolina for Animazement, and then to Texas for A-Kon the following weekend.

I've never driven 1000 miles on my own before, so I'm a little bit nervous. But I've filled my iPod with about 26 gigs of good, solid road-trippin' music (a deliciously butt-rocky melange of Rush, Grand Funk Railroad, Tupac, Jackson Browne, Jay-Z, Tom Petty and Bonnie Pink, to name a few) and fully intend to have a slamming good time.

This morning I woke up from another of my corpse-in-the-water dreams. This time I was working at a meat packing plant, and whenever I looked out the window there was this nude, mutilated human corpse half-submerged in the shallow bend of the river.

The story around the plant was that the corpse had been a tranny who surprised the wrong boyfriend and was murdered and dumped in the water. Everyone in town knew about what had happened, but nobody seemed to care about cleaning it up or calling the police. So there it stayed, putrefying and growing steadily more horrifying with every passing week. It was lying belly-up, and the face was the worst thing I ever saw.

People mostly didn't even notice it anymore. I was the only one who thought it was still worth discussing. I very deliberately turned my attention elsewhere every time I walked past the place where the body was, I could still see the shape out of the corner of my eye and smell the stink no matter how hard I tried not to.

Then there was an incredible wind-storm, and the next day the body was gone. I woke up still worrying about where it might have fetched up, and vowing I'd never swim in that river again.

In July I will be celebrating the 14th anniversary of this recurring dream. Such a momentous occasion!

Should I bake a cake? Stay awake? Swim in a lake?

Anyway.

I'll end this post on a slightly less grotesque note. Here's the spiel I've crossposted everywhere else people check for comic updates:


Kagerou will be back on the 9th of June. While we're gone, don't forget to check out the ongoing raffle for a chance to appear and die in the comic!