I have no idea what is happening – it’s like throwing pennies off a bridge. I just can’t get comfortable – it seems like the only thing that connects my life and art together is pain – it’s painful when I put them together – and more painful when I pull them apart. In 2007 I quit straddling the pain, quit my job, and moved to a rural studio in New York State. I work on creative projects, work on my life, and work on the day-to-day necessities of existence. No cell phone, no social media, no networking. But as I work on the books displayed on this author’s page; I feel another kind of pain — the pain of not working on something else: my printmaking and drawing are being neglected, my poetry output is a dripping faucet, and it looks like I’ll be telling NYFA that the Idea Enhancement Project just added another year to its timeline. When I read what I’ve just written; it’s as true as anything I can think of — but then so is the opposite: I need to process everything that happens . . .
September 8, 2021
Asbestos companies? Out of business.
Rust Belt workers? Unemployed.
Factory Farmers? Welcome to Hog Heaven.
With flooding from “100 year storms” occurring several times a year, large scale pollution from giant hog manure lagoons is destroying the environment, polluting rural wells, and spreading. But, unlike other industries, they can’t be shut down. They need to be bought out, with taxpayer’s money.
Industrial hog farms profit from polluting, and then they profit from selling — and guess who pays for the cleanup?