Forgetting to Pee

I've been so consumed by stuff over the last few weeks I've been forgetting to pee. Perhaps I should get one of these.  

Here's the breakdown:

I'm a featured artist for The Recycled Rain Project. My newest project, On | Off will be on display at the Olympic Mills Building in Portland beginning May 9th. 

At work, I'm in the concepting/pre-production stages of putting together a massive photoshoot for Holiday 2015. 

A few weeks ago I signed myself up for a memoir writing workshop. Having 2500 to 3000 word count goal per week keeps a little fire on my tail, but I'm making it happen. 

I'm rearing A 3-YEAR OLD!

The manchowder and I are building a house out back. Consequently our garden has relocated to a farm in Sandy River. 

In between the in-betweens of time I have left in a day, I can be seen building a website for one mammal and a book for another. 

The knee belonging to my right leg is making a ton of noise so it looks like I'm going to have to have the hardware and crepitus sucked out with fancy medical equipment. 

Aside from the dang knee :(, it's stuff that brings a sense of fulfillment to my innards. But this sense of fulfillment can also be slightly addictive if not put in check. I need to remember to pause from the stuff to sniff bark, grass and my own elbow, to caress ferns and the cats, and move slowly, steadily, like a banana slug as it inches its way across a muddy path. 

On-Off

I let the water run. While doing dishes. While brushing my teeth. While standing in the shower on those dark, cold early mornings. I turn the faucet on and off. On and off. There isn’t a lot of thought that goes into this movement. It’s part of a larger, sleepy, domesticated choreography, like putting keys in my pocket, pulling socks over my feet or opening the refrigerator door. I barely notice asking my hands to do the turning on and off. Yet it's nourishing me. It’s cleaning me, feeding me, hydrating me. These little actions I barely pay attention to are a large part of why I exist, why everything exists. 

This month I’m choosing to focus. Every time I turn the faucet on, I’ll make a mark on a page. The water I use will be measured, logged and photographed to accompany stories of some of the more parched moments I’ve experienced throughout my travels. 

Outside, ten yellow buckets catch rainfall, slowly replenishing the water supply I’ve too quickly depleted. 

This project (I am calling it On-Off) was initially inspired by the Recycled Rain Project. I’m a featured artist for their 2015 show which will open on May 9th.  

A dedicated webpage for On-Off is coming soon.