If you're not following me somewhere on Facebook (or you're on my page but at the mercy of The Algorithm™) you may not know that I spent Tuesday night doubled over in pain and Wednesday morning in the hospital.
It was a kidney stone. I'm going to be okay. But that's the reason the last couple of days have been a wash and I'm going to be off track until next week-ish.
I have thoughts, and maybe it would be better not to try to write them in a growing Norco haze, but I want you all to be the best artists you can be and the best writers you can be, and that means you have to have one foot in the world.
I know there's this powerful and seductive image that romanticizes the artist so poor they can't afford health insurance or even a modest dental plan, but please take care of yourselves. Obviously affording ANY health care under capitalism can be a bit of a privilege, but making sure the priorities of health come before you buy into a lifestyle obsession, ultimately, will make you a better artist than hanging out at a trendy bohemian coffee klatsch.
But shit will go wrong. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but it will eventually because that's how life rolls. And a $3000 hospital bill or trying to tough-it-out on an infection or something you can't tough out will kick your art's ass when you are laid out for weeks instead of days or have to get a job to pay your bills. Or just are in too much pain to create.
You don't have to buy into the lifestyle obsession––in fact, it really helps not to––but take care of yourself. Your art is not somehow separate from your watery meat sack.