“Mic drop” gown

Ghostscript 24 bit color image dumpGhostscript 24 bit color image dump

Close up of the Pillars of Creation

What you can become is the miracle you were born to be through the work that you do. –Kurt Vonnegut

I dropped a mic a month ago. Over the past 7 years, I built a magical life from scratch, using the medium of mere words. Self employment. Stage popularity. Community figurehead-ism. Yet somehow, I ended up utterly caged inside my own creations. Lonely. Broke. Trapped.

When at my depressive lowest, I would often stare at photos of deep space taken by the Hubble Telescope. The infinite release of a profoundly glorious and indifferent universe.

So I quit it all. Though it took an act of God, I quit it all. And quitting my “dream life” has been nothing short of an ecstatic freedom. Dropping the mic on stage felt like dropping a world of weight off my shoulders. Boom.cheep_micdrop1960s Helen Bass California deep space print gown – $45, In Retrospect vintage/consignment  | Cindy Says green-gold hells – $I can’t remember but they were half off, Piece Unique | Feather earrings – $14 Record Exchange | Busted mic, gift from my rockstar friend Ned Evett (because I’m not an asshole who would drop a live mic and piss off sound peeps ad infinitum)

Cheep it up.