Oh Marya….. my❤️ goes out to you while you fight the black mold bastard.
One of the things I like most about you is that you live a world adjacent, wildly creative, untethered life, but even this has become a disaster too much to bear.
Any chance you can sell whatever is salvageable, and begin again? Gut the scamp tramp, bleach everything, pray, reseal and repaint or dump that too.
Toss everything porous ( including the wildly awesome gold spike heels).
Mold spores know no boundaries, and you don’t need any tag a long bugs,
I have enough of most anything you need to start mold free and anew… and it’s yours for the asking. Most of my clothes would fit two of you, so that’s no use, but I’ve got pots, pans, blankets, sheets, pillows, curtains, and towels galore. And I’m guessing so do many of your adoring fans.
The gutting and throwing is beginning as we speak! I will be vigilant and spare nothing I should not. And thank you, so much, for your kind offer. I had a very nice therapy session last night with my poor therapist who continues to suggest that asking for and/or accepting help is not likely to be fatal. I have taken it under advisement 🤣🤗💕
Thrilled to be along for the ride, Marya. Also, I treasure this quote from Mary Oliver (and your missive reminded me of it):
“It is six A.M., and I am working. I am absentminded, reckless, heedless of social obligations, etc. It is as it must be. The tire goes flat, the tooth falls out, there will be a hundred meals without mustard. The poem gets written. I have wrestled with the angel and I am stained with light and I have no shame. Neither do I have guilt. My responsibility is not to the ordinary, or the timely. It does not include mustard, or teeth. It does not extend to the lost button, or the beans in the pot.
My loyalty is to the inner vision, whenever and howsoever it may arrive. If I have a meeting with you at three o’clock, rejoice if I am late. Rejoice even more if I do not arrive at all.
There is no other way work of artistic worth can be done. And the occasional success, to the striver, is worth everything. The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.”
“…instead of writing and looking at turtles, but frankly that is no concern of mine.” I find this probably far too deeply relatable but I think writing and looking at turtles are great priorities! The rest of the world’s got the wrong idea, imo.
At a point when I really should be commiserating with your misfortune I find myself wrapped deeply in the chaotic joy of your writing. PS If this is short, what is long?
Ugh… I don’t even have any words for this. Gutting a camper I feel is somewhat like gutting a caravan… But my caravan is not yet my home I have not logged thousands upon thousands of miles in it … one thing I do know is the creation of quality -read durable- well made “things” decreases proportionally if not exponentially across time with our supposed increase in knowledge and technology. Sometimes …actually most times in my world ….it is better to refit or repair the old than to embrace the new.
On the bright side, after the gut job, you can build some cabinets, closets, or storage to your liking. Plus, more material for your creative and talented mind to play with words cleverly, practicing your bitchcraft.
When you say “We have a situation,” you don’t mess around. First, I’m so sorry about all of this. I’d like to send flowers to the Scamp in the ICU, but those fucking bugs would make a quick meal of them. Keeping you in my thoughts, Marya.
You are a brilliant human. Truly. To be able to write with vulnerable realism and allow us to be along for your ride during some challenging times takes a darn smart woman. Those accommodating men know that. If there is such a thing, may you have a smooth ride fixing Scamp.
Well, shit, Marya. Or...don't. It seems you've already had your three calamities so now it can be about reassembly. I wonder what would happen if you could drive to the desert. Does mold grow in the desert?
For what it's worth, aside from the whole ethos of this missive, I'm keeping borked, blooped, and glubbed. The 4" gold stilettos can find a new home.
Oh Marya….. my❤️ goes out to you while you fight the black mold bastard.
One of the things I like most about you is that you live a world adjacent, wildly creative, untethered life, but even this has become a disaster too much to bear.
Any chance you can sell whatever is salvageable, and begin again? Gut the scamp tramp, bleach everything, pray, reseal and repaint or dump that too.
Toss everything porous ( including the wildly awesome gold spike heels).
Mold spores know no boundaries, and you don’t need any tag a long bugs,
I have enough of most anything you need to start mold free and anew… and it’s yours for the asking. Most of my clothes would fit two of you, so that’s no use, but I’ve got pots, pans, blankets, sheets, pillows, curtains, and towels galore. And I’m guessing so do many of your adoring fans.
Dump that moldy shit.
And if you need it, allow folks who care to help
The gutting and throwing is beginning as we speak! I will be vigilant and spare nothing I should not. And thank you, so much, for your kind offer. I had a very nice therapy session last night with my poor therapist who continues to suggest that asking for and/or accepting help is not likely to be fatal. I have taken it under advisement 🤣🤗💕
THIS. Teyani, thank you.
Mar, let us help, ok?
Thrilled to be along for the ride, Marya. Also, I treasure this quote from Mary Oliver (and your missive reminded me of it):
“It is six A.M., and I am working. I am absentminded, reckless, heedless of social obligations, etc. It is as it must be. The tire goes flat, the tooth falls out, there will be a hundred meals without mustard. The poem gets written. I have wrestled with the angel and I am stained with light and I have no shame. Neither do I have guilt. My responsibility is not to the ordinary, or the timely. It does not include mustard, or teeth. It does not extend to the lost button, or the beans in the pot.
My loyalty is to the inner vision, whenever and howsoever it may arrive. If I have a meeting with you at three o’clock, rejoice if I am late. Rejoice even more if I do not arrive at all.
There is no other way work of artistic worth can be done. And the occasional success, to the striver, is worth everything. The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.”
Dana, I read this and felt, as the kids say, wildly seen. Thank you for sharing. To heck with the mustard and buttons. On with the poems and walks. 🫶🤗
Thank you, Dana (and Mary). This could not have been more timely for me.
“…instead of writing and looking at turtles, but frankly that is no concern of mine.” I find this probably far too deeply relatable but I think writing and looking at turtles are great priorities! The rest of the world’s got the wrong idea, imo.
I AGREE 🙏🏻
Thank you for this hilarious glimpse into the state of play with your, um, eccentric campervan, Marya. Hope you can get it fixed up.
"Ah! This time she will not be weird!" Thank goodness for the weird!
How is the inanimate object also taking on my truculent unwillingness to be timely as well 😂
At a point when I really should be commiserating with your misfortune I find myself wrapped deeply in the chaotic joy of your writing. PS If this is short, what is long?
Twice this length is long. 😜 I am glad I’m not the only one laughing 😁
My question exactly.
Ugh… I don’t even have any words for this. Gutting a camper I feel is somewhat like gutting a caravan… But my caravan is not yet my home I have not logged thousands upon thousands of miles in it … one thing I do know is the creation of quality -read durable- well made “things” decreases proportionally if not exponentially across time with our supposed increase in knowledge and technology. Sometimes …actually most times in my world ….it is better to refit or repair the old than to embrace the new.
Definitely let us know how we can help! 💜
I’m holding equally my appreciation of your writing, how you take the grist and turn it into gold. And my holy moly expletives.
Why hold those in??? The holy moly expletives are more than fitting right now lolollll
Right! I as much as say that in tomorrow's post, which has been hung up in perfectionitis!
I just found my new favourite writer.
Hullo, friend! Welcome!! 🤗
This was so good--as always.
Thank you, Sarah—high praise 🙏🏻☺️
Marya
So good
Gone done Shat the bed
A sure shit show. I hope it’s OK to laugh. You got me going.
Thank you
May all get sorted in the alligator sleep well
Thank you, Prajna, I will carry on 😆
On the bright side, after the gut job, you can build some cabinets, closets, or storage to your liking. Plus, more material for your creative and talented mind to play with words cleverly, practicing your bitchcraft.
This!!! I had not thought of this!! Thank you luv! 😂🫶
Oh no, troubles do tend to come in multitudes don't they 🫣 at least the bog is pretty 🤷♀️
So pretty!! A great place to begin a gutting 😆
When you say “We have a situation,” you don’t mess around. First, I’m so sorry about all of this. I’d like to send flowers to the Scamp in the ICU, but those fucking bugs would make a quick meal of them. Keeping you in my thoughts, Marya.
Chris, you're such a fucking gem. Thank you.
You are a brilliant human. Truly. To be able to write with vulnerable realism and allow us to be along for your ride during some challenging times takes a darn smart woman. Those accommodating men know that. If there is such a thing, may you have a smooth ride fixing Scamp.
Thank you so much, Donna. All of these comments, all of you and your accommodating kindness have just warmed my soul.
Oy vey. Come to upstate NY. Park in my long flat driveway. Do the work within a safe space. Anyway. That’s my offer. Always open door. xoxo
Hoping to make a loop up thataway before year’s end. Hugs!! xoxox
That would be phenomenal. Let’s touch base in the next week or so if you can. I know you’re really busy! xoxo
Sooooo close to wrapping this series. Hopping over to Chicago for an event & then back on Eastern Time early next week—let’s chat then. xoxoxo
Super!
Well, shit, Marya. Or...don't. It seems you've already had your three calamities so now it can be about reassembly. I wonder what would happen if you could drive to the desert. Does mold grow in the desert?
For what it's worth, aside from the whole ethos of this missive, I'm keeping borked, blooped, and glubbed. The 4" gold stilettos can find a new home.
but I love themmmmmmm
I'm sure you wear them well. My stiletto ship sailed some time ago. 🛳️
they are entirely decorative. they are the shoes in which one sits. one does not wear them; one is worn by them. ;)
👠❣️🎯