incubatorene

[incubatorene]

Itchyyy

It's official. I hate summers in Virginia. BUGS, ITCHINESS EVERYWHERE, ALLERGIC REACTIONS, SUNBURNS, DEAD AIR. Hate this hate this hate this!!! TOO MANY BUGS BITING ME LIKE CRAZY ARGH!

[incubatorene]

Edward

Earlier today, I went to sign my paperwork for my residency. We met Edward on our way out, a mature stranger with a cane. He was so excited to have a conversation with me and my daughter, and I misheard him calling her a Lesbian, LOL. He really meant Thespian, as she shared that she is taking drama classes this summer.

I love random pleasant encounters like this. Especially after a small racist setback from six Jabba The Hutts way-over-their-expiry-dates women, and this punk who seems to be struggling through puberty wearing a Taylor Swift tee in his golf cart, combined with a couple micro incidents I had the unfortunate luck to experience in the Island. Frankly, most locals seemed polite and pleasant even though the island is known as "The Doomed Island That Loves Tr***", with bold visuals everywhere to remind you of their stance. Despite the slight distaste, I don't believe every Tr***supporter is racist, hateful, or deserves hate. But did the slight inconvenience I experienced disturbed me? I would be lying if I said no.

But I am no snowflake. >.<

Also as the husband, had and will oft be visiting the island to do extensive research on their disappearing state, genuinely trying to get them the exposure in good light they deserve, hoping to save this beautiful island he admires and respects; I honestly, sincerely, un-hypothetically, think that it was a terrible idea that he took me on his last trip.

Ironic.

[incubatorene]

Soft shell crabs

Back in Charlottesville, VA

Did you know that soft-shell crabs are recently molted blue crabs, harvested right before they regrow new shells? This makes every part of them: shell, claw, and all, soft and hence edible.

It is a long, stressful, and painful process for the crabs; although fascinating that lost limbs and eyes can be regenerated during a molt. Poor crabs had to endure this cycle to grow larger, and they may not survive if disturbed.

Please no comments on how much crustaceans I eat, that is for another day. Mwahaha

But this makes me sad.

Imagine figuratively as a broken human: when you think your soul and mentality are ready for healing, with the hope that life ahead will be better as your stronger self. You bravely stepped out of your shell.

Someone has been watching and waiting like a vulture.

While naked in your most sensitive and vulnerable, the vulture stabbed you in the eye, grabbed you by your heart, and crush them into pieces. Just because you are at...

Ok, unfortunately, has to work in a few hours so time for bed. Toodles

Tue, June 27, 2023. 2:37 AM

[incubatorene]

Hi-Yo!

Lying in bed in this hotel room on Tangier Island– sunburnt from hours of measuring crab shanty under the sun, pain from a day's worth of neglected infected splinter under my foot courtesy of a torn, jaded with life, upset with my husband, and contemplating whatever short life I have left.

And there's a fly. A FLY. Cruising around the room, gently landing on me whenever I feel a slight comfort. Why does that remind me of the husband? Hahaha! I kid. Or Am I?

In a few days, I will be signing my year ahead away as an Incubator Artist– It is like a Residency Artist without as many responsibilities and hours required; because promises and commitments are like dropping anchor in a storm, and all I want to be is, a small boat with calm winds. I know, I'd like to vomit a little too.

Thoughts rush through my mind yet I feel so numb.

I should really get out of this rut, but I am totally down for whining today.

Where is that stupid fly now?

Earlier, I went to sit by the deck for a bit to look at the sky: it was pitch black, and there were no stars but I don't mind. Although I wish there was a cold beer in my hand.

I digress a little but that is when I decided, that if I am going to continuously be this annoyingly emo, maybe getting back into blogging may turn this grey period into a collection of references for my Artist Statement on my show. I don't know what it might do, maybe it might don't. Who knows? Who cares, really? Might as well be prepared, and have embarrassing and shitty statements that are worth a year's effort; than regrettable last-minute even shittier ones.

At least I tried, right?

Ok, gonna finish watching Devil's Advocate. Still so mad at the husband, being angry is so exhausting and I do not know what to do with all these feelings. Also, the fly is back. Ugh.

Sunday, June 25th, 2023. 2 am-ish?