Dinosaur Dreams

Girbaud Jeans, Ha

I don’t really know where to begin, so I’ll start with dinosaurs. Over the past week or so, I’ve been receiving visitors of all sorts coming from the natural world, and I see them all as dinosaurs because it has been such a spectacle of an experience.

This included looking up and seeing a family of geese just in my yard and beyond—they’ve become more and more comfortable with such proximity, and it brings me great pleasure that they feel that way.

Then, looking down—just next to me on the edge of the patio and the grass: enter the dragonfly. It was so pretty, I almost wanted to tear up, but I just smiled and whispered hi.

While I was pulling out of the driveway—another dinosaur in the form of a turtle right in the middle of the road. I didn’t want it to get hit in any way, so I parked the car and took this special creature to the backyard toward the water just beyond. This certainly made me tear up a bit, as we conversed—I have a particular affinity to turtles, and this one, whom I call Raphael, was just so sweet and calming. I don’t think I’ll see this shell again, but I cherished such an experience.

Maybe a day or two later, in the backyard again, just across the water, a pink dinosaur—I had never seen this visitor before, but it felt special.

It all felt special—a sense of harmony in my surroundings, a love perhaps, with this specific world, and it was such a welcome, that I was just overwhelmed with a spirit I hadn’t felt before. Just lovely, that’s all.

I was able to catch up with a few friends after a very long time—ones I’ve known since high school even though we attended different schools, we’ve maintained a solid friendship over the years, all starting off with playing basketball, whether at Red’s or for school. The gentleman in the back was one I also coached basketball some years ago before entering rehab, and the gentleman in the front holds a magical memory for me in when I was in the hospital for a week or so, upon returning from a trip to India, taken straight to ER from the Lafayette airport, had sent me a really pretty card with such uplifting words. It should be noted that he didn’t know that I was in the hospital—it was just a kind gesture because that represents his being.

We conversed over Indian food at Masala, starting at 11:30 until this place shut down for their lunch hours at 2:30—none of us wanted to leave. It was a magical and much needed time.

I’ve been writing like mad—like mad, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve had such long sessions of writing before over a span of time. It has been insane. I’m laughing to myself because I went from binge drinking some seven years ago to binge writing, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’ve been trying out a new process—concurrently drafting a short story collection and a poetry collection at the same time. I will certainly not try this out again, but it was an interesting experience. After finishing the draft of the story collection—all rough, very rough, I completed a draft of the poetry collection. Then I went back to stories to finalize them, and then I went to the poetry collection to finalize them.

The strangest aspect of this was not finalizing each story or poem after completing a rough draft of each—the final drafting came after completing each collection as a whole.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write full length manuscripts this summer—though I’ve been having some ideas brewing, but I felt certain inspiration stemming from the light of Martha, and I went into it full force. I’m hoping at least one of these will find a place just so I can dedicate it to Martha. The story collection is again Louisiana themed—but with a bit more speculative tint to it, and the poetry collection doesn’t necessarily follow a thread, rather, it covers a gamut of tones of narratives, cosmic or earthly.

Just when I thought I was done, today, I saw a call for submissions that I was particularly interested in and I just finished writing a 2000 word personal essay about Juvenile.

I recently reached 93 months of sobriety—this coming about a week or so after an article I wrote about my experiences of living sober here in Lafayette, LA in a local publication called The Current. I don’t think I had ever been so nervous and anxious about a publication before—it was really settling into my mind and body, but from what I understand, I hear it has been well received overall. A sincere thank you to Christiaan Mader, the editor of the journal, for giving this piece a chance.

My attempts at craft have been so laughable—crochet and punch needle—I simply just don’t possess the skills, but I intend to take like workshops of some sort or meet with anyone who’s willing to show me how in person. I think these particular endeavors require for me to learn experientially with someone else rather than following instructions in a booklet or watching a video online. It has been so much fun though—to try out different creative activities.

A sincere thank you to all those who had reached out about my dad. Your words of care meant so much to me, and they certainly went a long way. I’m so thankful—he’s good, he’s good. Steady, and he has been back at home now, enjoying the World Cup. My mom has been rock solid, too, in showing her love for him and us, as a family as a whole. Thank y’all. Grateful.

I also wanted to apologize for not being so present in engagement on here and on Bluesky—I take a great pleasure, a true delight in sharing and liking the posts I find on here or at the other platform, and please note that I have been following along, but I’ve been finding myself hermetic for most part, both digitally and otherwise.

I’m hoping soon, I can return and share and like as many posts as possible—hopefully, I won’t annoy y’all too much with it. I’ve been a bit more active on Bluesky, but still, I find myself hiding in my mind for the most part. It’s just a phase—I’m looking forward to getting out of it, feeling reignited and refreshed.

Here’s a recent post I had made about forthcoming submission openings for July:

I’ve been staying up so late lately—going to bed when I usually wake up, but I’m just going with it for the time being. I’m liking the change a bit, to enjoy breaking some of my own personal restrictions. Late post: I'm a bit wired at the moment, and I don't really know what I just wrote here, but I'm hoping it makes sense.

Feeling peaceful.

Back to the night.

Love—bliss.