Proof of life

Nº 010

I didn’t fall off the face of the earth. I’ve just been pulled in a dozen directions. My days are full of names, deadlines, meetings, phone calls, drop-ins, press releases, and emails I meant to answer yesterday.

I started a new job as Deputy Editor at the Ukiah Daily Journal. More stories, more voices, more decisions. I still oversee the coastal papers, too, which means I’ve traded one full plate for two. It’s not harder, exactly. Just louder. The work never stops talking.

Meanwhile, we moved MEDIUM Art Center out of the strip mall and into downtown Ukiah. No paint rollers. No contractors. Just a lot of boxes, tape, and wishful thinking. But the lights came on, the walls filled up with art, and people started walking in. The new space feels right, like we were always meant to be here.

I’m still catching up from all that. There’s no break between roles. Any place with Wi-Fi has become my office. My phone never really leaves my hand. Writing happens in fragments of stolen time, scribbled thoughts, half-formed sentences. I chase quiet moments, but usually run out of day before I find one. I keep thinking I’ll block out time, make a plan. But the calendar keeps filling itself, and I’m exhausted.

This newsletter hasn’t been forgotten. I miss it. I miss the work of sorting through thoughts and shaping them into something clear. I miss sharing the smaller stories, the ones that don’t fit anywhere else. I’ve got drafts waiting. I’ve got notes scribbled in margins. I’ve got titles circled and half-written paragraphs that trail off mid-sentence.

There are things I want to tell you. Some personal, some practical. Some of it is heavy. Some of it’s hopeful. None of it’s polished yet. But I’m still here. Still paying attention, figuring out what matters most.

Thanks for sticking around. I’ll send more soon.