One day, three months into my physical therapy sessions, I was dutifully working through my home exercise plan, when I suddenly found myself on my feet doing my old Leonard Pitt mime exercises. Walking the square and pivoting at each corner. The pivot must be executed so that the spine and limbs move as one, by first a lean to the opposite side of the intended direction of the pivot, using the energy of the ball of the foot pushing to pivot to the intended direction. Change up directions and I find that one side is easier to pivot on than the other. Of course the difficulty is the right leg with the angry hamstrings!

Diagram of The Square from WSD’s notebook from a NWPL Performance Ecology workshop.

I moved on seamlessly to an exercise learned at a New World Performance Lab workshop. I call it dancing the square. Rather than pivoting 95 degrees at each corner, this square incorporates the diagonal lines as well as the perimeter in a pattern that takes the actor on a dance until ending up back at the starting spot. Now I find it a useful exercise in moving when the weather prevents the daily walk. In the workshop, we danced the square with four actors, one on each corner. At a certain point, the actors must move into the center and burst past the others to get to the other side of the diagonal. It is a magical moment, when everyone is present and focused on each other within the movement pattern. Acting as a team sport.

I began thinking about what I had learned from physical acting in relationship to what I was going through with physical therapy. What exactly is physical acting? The broadest possible answer is that it begins with the body, while method acting begins within the mind. In my experience teaching young actors, I have seen innate preferences for one or the other approaches. Instead of choosing sides, I advise taking what works for you from multiple sources.

Stars were my visual shorthand for the human body in acting workshops and classes. Sorry about my crappy handwriting! As the Kinks sing, “Everybody’s a star!”

What interests me is how emotions are made visible in the muscles, joints, tendons and bones of the body. Also, how the individual resists or succumbs to gravity as they tread along life’s path. I remember one stunning revelation that came to me when observing students walking the square in Leonard’s class. Although given the instructions to walk centered and in a neutral manner, each student had at least one significant tension in their body that 1. they were unaware of and 2. altered the neutrality of the walk. Eventually, we did exercises that asked us to deliberately put tensions into our bodies by adjusting the way we walked: toes out, toes in, back on the heel, up on the ball of the foot and then adding spine adjustments. I began looking at people walking about in a very different way.

Notes from an NWPL workshop. Jo-ha-kyu is a Japanese term for beginning, speed up and end fast.

Many of these human beings with tensions and muscle pains end up going to see a physical therapist, whose job is to find the source of the pain and come up with a course of treatment that will provide “neuromuscular re-education.” When I found that term in the clinical notes provided by my PT after each session, my own brain lit up! I had grown so disconnected from my own body that it was very difficult for me to describe what was causing the pain in my leg. The neural pathway from my brain to my hamstrings was not functioning. It took me several weeks of work to actually feel my hamstrings and begin to understand their function.

Notes from another NWPL workshop, possibly connected to the production of Winesburg at the University of Akron. I am doing a supine quad stretch!

Years later, I am doing this same stretch as part of my physical therapy home exercise program. I have learned that my hamstrings get angry when they are not stretched enough!

If you want to know more about acting and about performance ecology in which the work on the actor is not about ego but about clarity in relating to others and to the world in which we live, please subscribe to New World Performance Lab and read this post and this one with musings from Jim and Jairo about their work and in particular performance ecology..

A brutal look at myself working on my self and as my self in another NWPL workshop.

Later on as the PT exercises improved my leg mobility (in February of this year), I began to walk. It was a very painful experience. I told my PT I felt like the player on Survivor who ends up holding all the sandbags after everyone drops out. Walking was a painful exercise in dragging my bulk along the path to the next spot where I could stop and gasp for breath.

Journal drawing from February 2026. Walking with my body feeling like sacks of sand.

For encouragement, I watched YouTube videos on walking for weight loss, giving me options for optimal walking times. In March, I got a Fitbit knock-off on EBay and my walking picked up as the weather improved.

As I began to move my legs, memories of walking would pop up unexpectedly. Walking as a kid through the cow pastures to a secret little place where woodland plants grew. Walking all over Akron U campus at various points for various degrees and trainings. Walking through Hinckley Lake park and Whipp’s Ledges. Walking around Akron while hallucinating in vivid color! Walking in big cities for blocks and blocks. My neuromuscular re-education has made walking easier and far more pleasant.

I will leave you with my ongoing list, comparing and contrasting Physical Therapy with Physical Acting:

I took a new route today, on a trail that goes along the western side of the canal to Kenmore Blvd, which I took to 2nd St SW, then headed north back to my street. It is a gentle easy stroll with plenty of shade along the way.

A glance at the bridge to the floating towpath from a new angle along the western side of the Ohio canal:

Forgot to charge my phone before heading out, so I will have to take more pics on another walk. But every mischance is an opportunity for something new and unexpected to happen. I began to imagine my body as a science experiment. Visuals began to pop into my mind which I recorded in My Physical Therapy Journal, as notes and visuals for the comic book story I am working on.

This journal is where I capture my journey after finish 12 weeks of physical therapy. One month in and I can state that the journaling process keeps me on track in a pleasant sort of way. I can record research here as well as experiments and results. The comic will cover the actual PT journey, what brought it about, with some flashbacks to body images of old, as well as what I learned along the way. These sketches are ideas in action and will be used to lay out the story in Procreate. You might consider them as warm up activities before the main drawing event begins! Here are some more from the journal:

Stay tuned for more sneak previews! Subscribe for notifications. My work here on Substack will always be free and for the people! Let us end this with some sage words from the Kinks:

Put your hands up to the ceiling,
Bend your hips and touch your toes,
Do your daily exercises,
You're gonna look like skin and bone,

Don't eat no mashed potatoes,
Don't eat no buttered scones
Don't eat no carbohydrates
You're gonna look like skin and bone.

NOTE: Skin & Bone is actually a song about a diet gone terribly wrong. However it is a rollicking fun exercise song for those of us who need to get up out of the chair and move.

My interest in housing begins with my own little 105 year old house in Kenmore. I drew the above cartoon last year in response to the constant barrage of texts, emails, and mailbox solicitations from people wanting to buy my house. There are signs all over Akron along the lines of “Cash for your Home!” Most of these “buyers” are not local and they are not interested in our community. They want to flip houses and make money. Houses under capitalism are not homes, they are investments.

I contend that housing is a human right. Along with many people, I have been appalled at our city’s policy of tearing down the tents of homeless people. We must address this issue. It is not an easy problem to solve, but other states and cities are working on more humane ways to provide “housing first.”

Last fall, I applied to participate in this new-to-Akron process known as the Civic Assembly on Housing, an exercise in deliberative democracy rooted in building consensus through shared goals and fact-based research. Unify America (“We are on a mission to replace political fighting with collaborative problem-solving”) is the national organization. You can read about how they began and how their work has developed on their website. This civic process has been put into effect in three cities including Akron in the US, and in more cities in Europe. A documentary is being filmed as we deliberate over the course of 12 weeks. As we are living in a time where democratic processes are under threat, there is great interest in how to return democracy to the people.

Housing was selected as the first issue to go through this process through engagement with communities across Akron. Once it was selected, the research team put together a paper on the current state of housing in Akron and specific challenges to make it safer and more affordable. A Solutions Team was formed of various housing experts in Akron who sorted through all the ideas gathered through community outreach and narrowed them down to 12 issues.

Our assembly has 65 delegates. Almost 600 Akron citizen applied. We were put into demographic categories based on age, race, gender, education, income level, home owners, landlords, tenants and political affiliation. Every ward was given equal representation. A number of slates were created that filled the demographic requirements and the final slate was drawn at an event raffle. The next day, I got emails and texts welcoming me into Unify Akron’s first civic assembly.

Full Disclosure: We are being asked for a major commitment of time and focus for this work and will be receiving a stipend at the end of our sessions. The organization is doing everything possible to make the work and experience easier, such as providing child care and transportation for those who need it. They also provide tasty meals that include both vegan and vegetarian items!

The best thing about this experience so far is the mental and personal liberation that comes from working within a group that is demographically representative of Akron. Too often, we end up associating with people who look and live just like we do. To address the issues of housing without input from all economic levels and power levels would be self-defeating. It does put me in the frame for deliberative thinking because I must consider every voice at my table. The honest sharing of personal experiences has drawn us all closer together.

Every session we are given a table assignment and get to meet four or five more delegates. We are hearing experiences from every point of view when it comes to housing. For empathetic people, the process is empowering. However, not every person is empathetic in certain situations. This is the challenge of consensus seeking. Sometimes a group has to reset and work on consensus building. For example, zoning codes. Some Akron communities may like things the way that they are, while others are looking for changes to increase housing opportunities. It may well be that the final result will be a ward by ward decision. But that might be jumping ahead too quickly.

The process itself is designed to go through two passes. The first time, the information is given to us, discussed by delegates and input collected. Any questions that we might have to further our understanding of the issue are written down in our delegate reports and the research team reads them, researches and provides answers for us to consider during the second pass of the issue. The public can follow all this at the website and read the questions and answers there. You can also find all 12 housing issues and research answers there.

The City of Akron and City Council have signed off on this process. This does not mean that they will automatically agree to everything we propose, but they have promised to look at each issue and respond to each publicly with full transparency.

I will have more to report on this process, as we move forward including two tiny house issues that are near and dear to my heart! If housing is an important issue for you, do check out all the information contained on Unify Akron’s website. If grassroots democracy in action is of interest, please do follow along!

This picture began as an automatic pen and ink drawing, with me watching the line flow onto the page without stopping, images appearing that prompt more shapes and images. As I worked on the coloring with Prisma pencils, I began to realize that the creature is the Military Industrial Complex feeding on the greed of humanity which brings about a planet wide fire that signals “The End.”

Although Beverly Melrose, my art teacher of many years, told me to always sign and date my work, very few have dates attached, so I am relying on memory here. I think this work began once I left Ohio in 1976. I did a lot of pen and ink automatic drawings back then, exploring how flow determines shapes and observing the interconnections between thoughts and images on paper. Coloring came later in the 1980s after experiencing the west coast.

I like the feel of colored pencil on paper more than I do the feel of brush and paint. My drawings were intensely detailed and I had much more control with pencils rather than with a brush. Painting for me is more fun on a larger scale and not on canvas or paper. I employed my painting skills for theatrical sets, props and masks. At one time, I painted rocks, using the automatic drawing process to completely cover smooth river rocks of various sizes with intertwined colors, moving on to wooden decoy ducks. I have no examples of this work.

Here in the 21st century, I am teaching myself to use an Apple Pencil and an iPad for drawing and coloring. Procreate is a magical program that allows the Apple Pencil to become a brush of any size and shape, any kind of ink point you want, plus special effects like spray paint, texture, so many options in fact that at first it was quite daunting to begin using.

Before the fire, I was working on using Procreate to save old work. This one was found in an old sketch pad and is dated 1969. It was in black and white and had a hole in the paper (See Acid Rock). I scanned it and uploaded into Procreate where I was able to remove the damage and transform it into a DayGlo style poster:

1969:

Now:

This post was started last year and not finished until today. I seem to have fallen into a pattern of collaborating with my younger self! At least this post did not take 57 years to complete!

Since last I posted, I have been on a physical therapy journey to recover my mobility and regain a healthy body. Working on a comic about this continuing adventure and will undoubtedly drop a few sneak peeks here! Am resolved to post here once a week, on art, politics, and housing in Akron. By some strange twist of luck, I was selected to serve on #Unify_Akron, a civic assembly to recommend housing solutions to the mayor and city council. More on that to come!

My art studio post-fire October, 2024. Most of my art had been moved downstairs prior to the fire as I was working on redoing that room. What was lost were four file drawers full of ancient correspondence and memories, plus a lot of art supplies, sewing supplies, two sewing machines, and many props and costumes.

After 9 months of living away from our home, Horatio the dog, Bernie the cat and I returned to face every room packed to the ceiling with boxes containing all the “stuff” that was saved and cleaned. Finally, the boxes are emptied and recycled. Organization is still an ongoing task, but no longer an overwhelming challenge that prevents me from actually sitting down to do some art. Life is good in the new better-than-ever studio. Take a peak:

The entire process has been physically and mentally challenging. I have lived my life looking forward with not much time spent dwelling on the past. But when my life came back to me in boxes, I found myself unpacking various objects that reminded me of good times I had forgotten about. There were also objects that took me back to dark times, which happily no longer haunt me.

All in all, the process began to feel like a great shedding of old, dead and useless objects and thoughts. I have taken several months away from posting, in order to process and reflect, especially on my artistic output. I will be sharing some of my thoughts on art and society here moving forward.

Here’s wishing you the bluest sky,
And hoping something better comes tomorrow.
Hoping all the verses rhyme,
And the very best of choruses to
Follow all the doubt and sadness.
I know that better things are on the way.

—Better Things by the Kinks

Above: Horatio and Bernie retake the living room after the contractors have gone home. Notice the shop vac in the background. That means more contractor work the next day.

And such has been life on Harvey Ave since we moved back in. This past week, we’ve been dealing with contractors working to finish every item on the To Do list. Here it is Friday, and we are due for another contractor visit to fix the front gate that was bent out of shape by the firefighters that night in October 2024. After that, we are expecting a tile person to install the recycled glass in the bathroom. It is on order. The other major work is repairing the window on the landing that one of the workers broke while carrying supplies up the stairs. I didn’t get angry — heck, this is a small house built for 1920s human bodies. It was fascinating watching the various skilled workers move around each other while tending to plumbing, electrics, patching , painting, flooring and trimming.

This past week, we saw mostly Brandon, a one man multi-functional restoration guy who found genius ways to make this old house look even better than before. However, it took several visits by the electrician to figure out that the brand-new directly-wired smoke alarm system was a lemon that had to be replaced — after suffering through obnoxiously loud (not to mention PTSD-inducing) smoke alarms coming on at odd times and then refusing to be turned off. Highly stressful for human, cat and especially dog.

Now we are dealing with all the boxes. I try to put in time in every room each day. Every object must have a permanent home. I am now in archivist mode, which means sorting items to be digitized that can eventually go into the recycle bin. Other things are going straight to the Goodwill. It is paring down time. I have plans to get rid of most of the books — stay tuned!

I turn on YouTube to listen to my favorite radical left-wing lunatic programs while unboxing. Highly recommended is a new leftist media collective called This Space. Find it here!

Speaking of unboxing — this was the first item that popped out of the first opened box!

At the end of May, the new air conditioning mini split system had been installed and all the major appliances had been delivered. The exterior painting was complete and I absolutely love the way the Quixotic Plum foundation contrasts with the Dahlia painted aluminum siding! I had doubts that all the interior restoration work would be completed by the hard deadline of June 30. But no, the head honcho from corporate was sure the various crews would make it happen. They gave me a schedule that had no room for anything to go wrong.

In my former life as a theatre director, I lived my life on a schedule driven by the calendar. Because when the curtain goes up on opening night, you better make sure everybody has a finished costume and the lights are focused correctly. Now four days before the hard deadline, I was in full panic mode. I needed reassurance that the bathroom would have a functioning Toto toilet and that all gas appliances were properly hooked up. Then a major leak developed in the water pipes above the kitchen ceiling. Suddenly, the fresh new paint was carved up and a large hole provided access to the leak. The hard deadline was extended a week

.

This time, the deadline had to be honored. The cute B&B rental in Highland Square needed to be readied for the next tenants. On July 3rd, various crews worked to make sure there was hot and cold water, the toilet was functioning and the stove and frig were hooked up and operating. In the middle of the day, three trucks arrived bearing the contents from my home that were rescued and cleaned after the fire. Suddenly, many boxes filled every room of my house. At 5 pm, all the crews left and I tried to make some kind of order within the chaos so I could move Bernie and Horatio over the next day.

The Fourth of July was “hotter than Hooker in Heater today, and hotter than Heater in Hellmouth, where the high was 137 degrees” as Firesign Theatre once reported. The dog and cat knew something was up, as I loaded my little Smart car several times, driving off and returning for the next load. Finally, I knew it was time to transport Horatio and Bernie before the rude and ugly sounds of July 4 took over the neighborhood. I still had a couple more loads of items to move, but I figured I could get it all out the next day before the final walk through of the apartment.

Horatio had been trying to get back in the house every time we visited over the past 8 months. I had brought him in for sneak peaks during the last week before moving in. He is attached to his old habits, but even more attached to me, so where he sleeps is not as important as it being near me. Bernie had only been living us for two months prior to the fire, so I doubted he had many memories of the house. When I opened his carrier, he darted out, surveying the habitat, and immediately vanished. He showed up a couple of times, stalking like a wild beast in the jungle and then disappeared for 12 hours!

Did he crawl down the plumbing access hole? The cover had fallen on the floor. I called for him but no sound. I imagined him slipping and falling (not how cats usually navigate their surroundings.) I dreaded waking up and finding him still gone and having to call the contractor to rip up the walls to find the cat. I went to bed in a panic and managed to sleep for a few hours.

The next day, I called him and nothing for awhile. Then he showed up, acting like he didn’t know me or the dog. He slunk through the front room and then darted up the stairs. Throughout the day, he would make appearances, locating his food and water bowls and eventually allowing me to pick him up for a cuddle.

We spent the weekend playing loud music to drown out the fireworks. Horatio was happy to resume his daily habits, ending the day with a toothbrushing, and a brush out of his coat before bed. On Monday, the workers resumed the final push while Bernie had to go to the hospital for scheduled dental surgery. He returned home at the end of the afternoon, fully opiated and in total bliss, rolling around on the new carpets and glad to be home. Meanwhile, Horatio hid behind the washing machine in the utility room while the workers were in and out and up and down!

Now it is a week past the Fourth, another Friday and one worker is here patching and repainting various areas, installing hand rails, and building a set of shelves for the bathroom. Just about everything is going to be finished today, except the bathroom tile which is recycled glass and matches the original tile exactly. It is on order and at some point will arrive and be installed. Likewise, a new window is on order to replace the window on the landing which was broken by a worker moving something up the stairs. It is a little house and the workers are mostly large men! On days when multiple crews were here working, the actions resembled a Tetris puzzle with all the moving men and objects.

I have many days of unpacking boxes ahead of me, but the relief of leaving months of displacement behind and actually living in our own little house has brought all of us moments of peace and quiet at last!

A neighbor has already voiced a complaint about the color of the gutter down pipe. “It should be white,” he stated emphatically. I asked the contractor if they could paint it white but I didn’t get an enthusiastic response. Now I’m thinking it might be better to paint it Dahlia like the rest of the aluminum siding. It certainly would be easier not having to deal with getting white on the already painted aluminum siding. The foundation color was suggested by a young woman working at Sherwin-Williams. She showed me all the various colors of black, with Quixotic Plum giving me the dark foundation brick color that pulls out the purple in the Dahlia color on the siding.

Can I just put in a positive word for aluminum siding? Its most redeeming quality is that it isn’t made of vinyl. It doesn’t look like it is melting in the heat and it is long lasting. Yes, it can get dented and supposedly it is not as good as holding in heat during the winter, but I have not experienced any difficulty keeping the house warm. The smell of vinyl burning in a house fire is horrid and toxic, so keeping my aluminum siding was an eco choice as well. When I think of vinyl covered houses I think “and they are all made of ticky tacky and they all look the same!”

Insurance coverage is all about what is “in the scope” of the claim. In my case, the fire was at the front upstairs window and there was a lot of smoke staining around the exterior of the window, but nothing melted! Therefore, all the aluminum siding was included in the scope, but not the trim, the aluminum awnings nor the foundation blocks. So I had to hire another painter to finish it all the way.

Speaking of those blocks, they are a feature of houses built around the turn of the 20th century. (My house was built in 1921.) They are called rock face blocks, that have an added layer of stucco to make the blocks look like they were cut from a quarry. We had to do some patching and prepping as the prior paint jobs were peeling in some places. All possible rodent entry ways have been cemented over!

One week from tomorrow is the official move-out date from this Highland Square apartment and back into my restored home! There is so much to do between now and then, but so far the contractors are living up to their promises to get it all back together. This week the trim and inside doors go up, the bathroom is tiled and cork flooring installed before the plumber installs the Toto Washlet and pedestal sink.

The remaining electric fixtures will be put in and a new mini split AC system is going to be installed. The insurance covered replacing the old window AC unit but I decided to upgrade on my own dime to a more efficient and sustainable way of cooling the house. This summer is already hotter than ever. 95 degree weather for four days in a row. Ugh.

My week ahead will be focused on coordinating deliveries to the house, while packing what I have in the apt and cleaning up here as I go. Monday, the new frig and gas stove arrive, Tuesday the new organic mattress from San Francisco is due, and I am finishing up ordering area rugs for the newly finished flooring upstairs and down. Friday, all my belongings are due to be returned at 11 AM. I have been told they will arrive in boxes marked as to which room they were taken from. I will have the weekend then to get things in enough order to bring Horatio and Bernie home again on Monday. Then I expect it will be a few weeks to get it all organized.

Meanwhile, I am very aware that the US Joke of a President has illegally declared war and is happily bombing Iranian supposed nuclear sites. Yes, let’s add more deadly toxicity into the atmosphere while flexing our military industrial might. As an elder person, I have experienced over my lifetime every damn president dropping bombs on various non-white cultures. No I am not inured to these insane conflicts, but I am glad I have so much in my own life to focus on right now.

I leave you with two thoughts: Always pick the colors that move you the most, and now more than ever —

Fight the Power!

Happy No Kings Day! It is pouring rain here in Akron, Ohio. There is a rally happening at 1 pm downtown. Rain is supposed to stop at 12:45 pm. I plan on driving by and honking. Unfortunately, I do not have the stamina to stand outside for any length of time. I also don’t have access to art materials to make a sign. I do have a UAW Eat the Rich tee shirt and a purple baseball cap with “Woke” embroidered in yellow.

With the National Guard and the Marines sent to LA to stand around and look mean, I find myself in a full circle moment, going back to my first year of college in 1970. Bombs in Cambodia, Richard Nixon, Self-immolating monks in Viet Nam, SDS, campus ROTC buildings set on fire. And then, the National Guard was sent to Kent State, 20 some miles to the east of Akron U. Four students were killed and eleven wounded. I will never forget May 4, 1970. Those were the days my friend and unfortunately they never seem to end.

Listening to the ongoing news updates regarding the shootings in Minnesota this morning — I learned about it on a YouTube posting. Scanning the comments, I see the same sort of response that the majority of Ohioans had to the Kent State shootings. “Why should I cry about some dead libs in MN?” could have been “Why should I cry about some dead protesters in OH?” Akron University went on to name a sports building after Governor Rhodes, who sent in the guard in response to the mayor of Kent’s request. KSU was an island of progressive thought and action in a red rural county just as MN is a beacon of what progressivism can do to improve the lives of its people. (Sadly, KSU just caved into federal pressure and closed its LGBTQ center and all other programs that were based upon inclusion, equity and diversity.

I was going to write of other things today, but the breaking news is almost too much to handle. We are hearing that the assassin was faking it, in full police gear, so that the homeowner had no idea they were opening the door to their deaths. This guy is still on the loose, so everyone is staying in place and will think several times before responding to anyone presenting as “police.”

Stay safe my friends and stay true to your convictions.

Blimps are so much nicer than drones. They are navigated by humans onboard, floating in friendly formations. One of the unique pleasures of living in Akron, Ohio is hearing the unmistakeable sound of a blimp in the area and looking up to spot the giant sky whale making its way to or from Wingfoot Lake, home of the humongous blimp hanger. In 2002 we were treated to four blimps converging above Akron to celebrate the launching of a new Goodyear blimp!

The three blimps visiting Akron this week are honoring the launch 100 years ago of the first Goodyear Blimp named Pilgrim. By happy coincidence, Akron is celebrating its bicentennial this year. Nothing better than blimps above, unless one can find a way to catch a ride on one of those blimps. But with only 9 passengers per flight, the average citizen doesn’t stand much of a chance at a blimp ride. Often blimp rides are auction items for local non-profits — so if you have a limitless budget a blimp ride is surely obtainable.

I would love to ride on a blimp over and around this city, but I will settle for a big dose of triple blimp luck — my life of displacement since the house fire in October of 2024 is definitely about to end! I will be back in my house by June 30! All of a sudden the log jam cleared and multiple contractors have gathered in a grand flurry of activity. This week, the outside painting continues, with electrical upgrades going on inside along with a flooring crew starting upstairs. My lead contractor Travis, who has been a gem throughout the process, gave me a schedule for this month with all assurances that his people would be up to the task of getting me back in my home.

Blimps, a restored house and to top all the luck, my social security Windfall Exemption Provision refund finally arrived yesterday! 40 years ago, politicians decided that it would be a “windfall” to give union workers with pensions their full social security payments. Two pensions per person — how greedy! Never mind that many public service workers contributed to SS before, during and after their union jobs in order to maintain a modest living. Public Service workers do their jobs not to get rich but to serve their communities. After decades of pushing legislators, the shameful WEP act was removed along with the GPO. About 3 million workers would get a boost in their monthly benefit and a lump sum for 12 months worth of lost benefits.

The GPO was a Carter era provision that cut SS benefits for spouses of union members. The SS Fairness Act passed in Jan of 2025 and was supported by both Democrats and Republicans. I joined in various FB groups to lobby legislators in the summer of 2024. After the bill passed, we continued to post in our groups as we looked forward to restored benefits. With the change of regime, Social Security took on the added work of making right our monthly checks and calculating past months for a lump check. At first we were told everybody would be taken care of by March of this year, but as the chaos in staffing and leadership grew, a new target date of November 2025 was given. Recently, the new SSA head amazingly said we all must be paid by July 1! I was in the final 9% who hadn’t been served yet at the beginning of June.

Let’s take a moment to consider all those workers who retired and died without WEP and GPO relief. The US government has kept about 60% per monthly benefit, money that was earned and contributed by workers and their employers over decades. There was no way they would ever make it right with those who suffered under the WEP and GPO. What could they do? Cut the defense budget? What disturbs me the most about this situation is the attitude that it is ok to limit working and middle class benefits. How dare these union members (teachers, govt workers, firefighters, police, nurses etc) live a comfortable retirement after decades of public service? Let them scrape by and die early from neglect.

Most of us retirees were thrilled to get something finally. For me, it means the difference between always being on the edge of disaster and now having extra dollars per month to cover household emergencies etc.

To celebrate the ending of displacement, here is a photo of the first rose of the season from Dolly’s rose bush. Dolly sold the house to me in 1999, and this rose bush came with it. The house survives and so does this rose bush!

(Above: the bathroom is repainted, awaiting the new cork flooring, lighting fixtures, a new Toto toilet and a pedestal sink.)

“Had enough of all this aggravation,
Tension choking up blocking my circulation.”

—Aggravation by the Kinks

Sitting at the kitchen table of the B&B apartment, my headquarters for Operation Home Restoration this afternoon, waiting on the results of a meeting with contractors and adjusters, who are going to decide when I move back into my house. The plan was for 6/30 as the last day in the rental. But the flooring company has avoided providing actual start dates. Even today, exactly 30 days until the current deadline, the flooring agent provides two proposed spans of work dates: 6/18-6/20 or 6/23-6/25.

I don’t see how either of those two slots gives everyone else time to do the plumbing, the final electrics, the trim, doors and closets, final clean up, appliances installed and final inspections — and only then will the restoration and cleaning company bring back every item they took from the house to clean. They do not provide an itemized list of what they took out. I did get a list of what was thrown out along with what the insurance covers plus a check to cover all the personal item losses.

The items will return in boxes marked as to which room they came from. I am sure it will be an overwhelming sight and experience for me and for the dog and cat. I am working on a plan to get rid of most of the books, the vast majority of which are theatre-related. Looking forward to a minimalist life-style moving forward.

Back in the day, I used to direct a lot of plays and musicals. That process is all about deadlines and bringing disparate artists and technicians along at the proper pace so that when the curtain goes up, everything is ready for the audience. I used to thrive on the rush of that process. In this case, however, the deadline keeps moving, thus increasing my aggravation.

“Who needs it? Aggravation.
And I don't have any answers
I just got an attitude,
Do what it takes just to survive it,
Another day but I'll get through,
What more can I do? “

In 1969 I started college as an art major. Making art was something I’d been doing since I could hold a crayon. I had some talent and lots of ideas, but at the age of 18 my goal was to become an art historian because I did not believe I could make a living from creating art. After all, I was a woman and women were not represented in the museums I visited as a child. The one exception was Mary Cassatt who always seemed to be downplayed as a lesser impressionist, one who followed the male artists’ trends, and who focused on “womanly” themes. Her story was far more complicated than that, as are the lives of most women who stood outside the museum doors.

I like to think that museums house more women artists than we can know about — for surely, women too created wondrous cave and wall paintings, sculptures and friezes through the ages. Talent is not exclusive to one class or gender. Artistic success, however, is very much a product of environment.

Art takes time, time is money
Money's scarce and that ain't funny Low Budget by Ray Davies

Whether visual or performing arts —chances are that the making process is lengthy and may involve expenses for materials. For the independently wealthy artist, life is easy and relatively straight forward. (See Degas and his friend Cassatt mentioned above). Get the best training, relocating to Paris if possible, mingle with the right crowd and find wealthy people to buy your works or support your performance plans.

Art funding from the 20th century on:

The US Government started providing support for artists during the Great Depression, recognizing that artists are workers and that art can benefit the public good. Funding and granting organizations began to spring up at local, state and national levels. The Non Profit Industry developed apace to feed upon the granting entities. Artists learned grant-speak and took workshops on effective grant writing.

Back in the 1960s, a small upstart women’s theatre company called Earth Onion Women’s Theatre, made some noise with skits on women’s liberation. They got their non-profit status and a grant from the NEA. At that time, the Endowment folks were breaking with tradition and looking to fund small groups to help bring about diversity and inclusion plus a wee bit of equity to the marginalized artists. When I met up with Earth Onion in the mid 1970s, the original founders had moved on and two women ran the whole shebang. They hired me to be the third wheel in the company and we worked comfortably in our storefront theatre on 18th St NW with our $10K/yr grant.

But times change and so do governments. The NEA decided to return to more established groups of artists and small but important operations were forced to find other funding or shut down. Arts admins follow the arts funding trends and so it goes until someone turns the tap off.

That experience left me with a mantra that stayed with me my entire working life: What the government gives, the government can (and will) take away. And what is left after capitalism wraps its coils around the art makers, squeezing us to produce more art?

The alternative to starving to death or selling out to speculators is to produce Cheap Art. Bread and Puppets Theatre in Vermont is a proponent of producing art that is cheap and designed for the people. Their silk screened prints are powerful works that complement their performances. Performance troupes that hand round the hat at the end of a show are seeking donations not obligations. These are tactics I can live with.

The arts non profit world is a constant scramble and I wish there were a better way of supporting the arts. What would the arts look like in a democratic socialist society? I welcome your thoughts in the comments below!

I started with the dwarf pink dogwood. Wads of insulation fluff were caught on the branches. Dead Morning Glory vines were tangled around the trunk and branches. The ground below was filled with glass shards, bits of cassette tapes, charred bits of wood, soggy theatre programs, neatly folded pieces of cotton fabric for that quilt project I was going to get to eventually.

My front garden is small in square footage but packed with bulbs, perennials and shrubs. Various pots still bear the remnants of last year’s annuals. The bed next to the front door and beneath the upstairs and downstairs windows suffered the most from the events during and after the fire.

The fire started October 18, 2024 at the upstairs window from an ancient extension cord that snaked into the closet. It attached to a lightbulb inside the closet — I can’t remember the last time I used it. It was filled with old costumes and props. Next to the closet were a set of 6 ft shelves loaded with various things: all my sewing materials and notions, a large theatre program collection, two boxes of cassette tapes from back in the day, Wanda Duck’s traveling bags and props, two sewing machines, and my very first PC which I had hung on to for sentimental reasons. I had thought “one day I will plug that back in and remember what it was like back in the dawning of the digital age!”

The fire was contained to that front room which I had been using as an art studio. However smoke and water damage went throughout the house. I have been staying in a B&B about ten minutes away, learning the ins and outs of managing life during house restoration services provided by my insurance company.

Back to the garden — the dogwood is now opening into full pink bloom! The garden bed is still full of broken glass and other fire debris. I need to get my hands on archeological-type field tools to finish the job.

Meanwhile, I have been working in the back shaded garden, reclaiming it from the Boston Ivy, Virginia Creeper and Poison Ivy. Happily, the Hellebore and Alpine violets are spreading their charm. Weather permitting, I have been pulling out one garbage bag of ivy per visit to the homestead. I take out my stress as I pull out the ivy. It is satisfying to see it fill up the bag as the garden beds are reclaimed.

A parade of contractors, utilities service people, and various inspectors go through my house every week. A very efficient and professional crew just finished up the interior painting. This coming week is the exterior wash and paint. I picked a new darker blue with tones of purple. It is called “Dahlia” in the Sherwin Williams exterior paint offerings. The weather doesn’t look very promising this week. I hope the flooring company has managed to secure the bamboo, cork and Marmoleum* tile flooring materials. My nightmares are all about rising tariffs and vanishing supply chains.

*Marmoleum is a type of eco-friendly flooring made from natural materials like wood flour, jute, and linseed oil. It is known for its durability, ease of maintenance, and variety of design options, making it a popular choice for both residential and commercial spaces.

I will close with some pics of the new interior paint. Note that each room is a particular color, wall and ceilings. I like having color caves. White ceilings are so boring!

We are in the last few weeks of bare branches and the sight of exposed ivy that has migrated from other yards. It is especially sad to see the ivy strangling old and once powerful trees.

Boston ivy and poison ivy are the chief culprits in my neighborhood. The poison ivy came first, climbing up trees and sneaking in through fences. At one point, it had grown over my detached garage in such lushness that the roof appeared thatched with green leaves of three. But in the past two years, the Boston ivy has crawled up and over the poison ivy, snuffing it out by strangulation and intense overgrowth.

When ivy takes over a tree, there is no recovery. The vines grow as thick and tough as hemp rope. Pulling it off will kill the tree faster. If you don’t take care of the vine invasion at the beginning, you will end up having the tree removed or else face an entire yard full of ivy covered trees.

Last October, my house was damaged in a house fire that started upstairs and was contained in time so that it was not a total loss and it can be restored to its former glory. Repairs are ongoing and I am living in a rental apartment until I can move back in, hopefully in August. I am experiencing, in a small way, what it means to be displaced. I must note that my insurance is covering all the repairs, items lost and rental housing costs. I recognize my privilege.

I spend my days in the gardens front and back, pulling up ivy every day. It has spread from neighboring properties on two sides. It is one of the most invasive plants around. I also have to deal with common Hibiscus that drops seeds from neighboring trees onto my property. They are not easy to pull up.

The property across the street was overtaken by Asian Knotweed which spread throughout the neighborhood. A new owner took it out using machetes and probably toxic sprays. Asian knotweed looks a lot like bamboo and people plant it thinking it will provide a nice backdrop to their patios. But it can lower the price of a property if it has established itself in any quantity. Do not plant this — ever!

What is “invasive” depends upon one’s own point of view. Violets, clovers, dandelions and daffodils — all are spreaders and I welcome their presence! They are lovely to look at and don’t require maintenance. They provide early food for bees and other beneficial insects.

Humans migrate. It is what we have always done, in search of food and a better place to shelter from the weather. Even the first indigenous peoples of the Americas migrated here. Waves of migrations provide an outline for human history and pre-history. Sometimes migrants are considered “invasive” leading to calls for “steps to be taken” in order to deal with the “infestation.”

But people are not plants. They do not infest. They arrive with some hope in their hearts for a better life. They chose this country for many reasons. Plants do not reason. Plants drop their seeds and spread their roots without making choices. We humans can tend to the plants and make sure that invasive species do not over run and strangle our trees and garden plants.

We humans can also tend those humans who are in need of a new place to live and work. Migrants are not another species! They could be us under different circumstances. We can provide services to set them up to succeed in their new land. Migrants bring many gifts, enriching our culture and expanding our understanding of humanity. All of us are migrants, children of migrants and descended through millennia of migrations.

I do not know how to uproot those attitudes of fear, hostility and violence within humans who demonize other groups of humans. If only there were a non-toxic spray that would prevent them from spreading their hate.

For someone who loves to write about the Kinks, not having immediate access to the capital letter K is beyond annoying. I used my Stimmy check to purchase a refurbished MacBook Pro in 2020. Thanks to the Essential Delivery Workers, I received my new computer and it took me on journeys via Zoom and to online performances, classes and workshops during the pandemic. It did its job well!

At some point, I noticed that I could no longer type a capital K. Shift+k produced an empty space. After much frustrated repetition alternating with trying to clean my keyboard, I discovered I could achieve a capital K by using Shift+CapsLock+k. That was also annoying because I would have to remember to Unlock the Caps key after each capital K. Otherwise, my writing continued in all Caps. Ugh!

Another work-around was typing some capital Ks in Notepad and then copying/pasting them to my clipboard. But that also had drawbacks. So I began to search for a solution to the problem. I didn’t find much that was helpful. A note on the Apple forums with a similar problem brought comments that perhaps it was a glitch in that particular model. Years later, I proved that theory wrong.

This year’s tax refund checks were used to upgrade to a new laptop. I found a refurbished MacBook Pro made in October 2024, not yet 6 months old! When it arrived, I transferred everything from the old computer to the new one. But alas, the missing Capital K was also transferred. I had hoped to leave that glitch behind me! I began searching online again and found more ideas, including that the Capital letter K may have been turned into a hot k for a particular software program. Hmmm. Sounded possible. How to figure out which program and how to determine if the Capital K had become a Hot Key?

I needed help beyond AI generated answers so I made an appointment for a seat at the local Apple Store’s Genius Bar. My assigned Genius listened to my tale of woe, and poked about on the laptop. He could not find that the Capital K had been assigned to any other function. There was no straight forward solution.

When I transferred all my data to the new laptop, I noticed that I had three separate sign on Icons. I don’t know how I achieved that — maybe I created new Admins each time I upgraded computers? At any rate, I got the idea to sign on to these old Admin accounts and see if the letter K was functioning properly. I opened up the WSD Account with a soccer ball icon. Typed a Shift+k and Voila! There was the elusive capital K!

I told my genius about this finding, hoping it would help him discover the source of the k problem. He looked around but it was not clear at all how and why these two accounts differed in terms of the Capital K. So the Genius said well why not use this one since we know the K works. However, this old account did not have all my latest files and software on it. He swiftly got everything transferred and I was good to go!

Well, almost. There were things that had to be re-established, like my email accounts. And I couldn’t help noticing that my files are a mess and really need organizing and archiving. But I did learn about Accounts on my laptop and how to use them. If any reader here has a solution to restore the Capital K to all my Accounts, please share in Comments.

When I got home, I opened Notepad and merrily typed a long string of KKKKKKKKK’s and then the word Kinks over and over! It felt so good to be free of the glitch!

On a Sunny Afternoon in March, this book finally landed in my temporary B&B abode in Akron, OH. Bernie, a Phenomenal Cat gave it a good sniff, but soon headed for the kitchen, hoping for Better Things!

The Kinks have been a presence and inspiration in my life since the early 70s and I am very proud to be a part of this collection of fan stories about the greatest band to ever come out of the UK. I display my bias with great pride! This will not be a review, rather a response to the experience of reading all the stories over the course of this past weekend. I put aside all distractions and read it cover to cover.

The fan stories are organized chronologically. Editor Chris Kocher provides an overview of each decade, summarizing what was happening in the Kinkdom in terms of musical output and other artistic endeavors and achievements. For the lifelong fan, it is an exhilarating itinerary of a very personal journey. Each fan story is unique and yet familiar, as the music and lyrics are etched in our brains and bodies.

I would arrive at a show, usually alone, wide-eyed at all the fans gathering together. I didn’t know many fans in real life, which is why I began a ‘zine (The Dumpster Times) back in the late 80s, so I could write reviews about my fave band and maybe find other kindred fans. My story in the book, tells of the first Kinks fans I encountered who helped me embark on my journey. Later on, when computers became available for home use, I discovered alt.Kinks and Kinks groups on Prodigy and Compuserve. In the early DIY era of America On Line, I hosted Kinks chats online and was thrilled to sign up for Neil Ottenstein’s Kinks Digest (You can still sign up HERE) and have had Dave Emlen’s Unofficial Kinks web site Kindakinks.net bookmarked since I first discovered it. Doug Hinman’s definitive books detailing all the recordings and all the concerts survived the fire and will once again take a prominent place on my Kinks bookshelf.

Finally I was meeting other Misfits who are Not Like Everybody Else. Sometimes I met them in real life at concerts, and once notably found myself in a taxi with five other fans headed to an Irish pub on the upper West Side of NYC, where we had a beer with one Raymond Douglas Davies. I was painfully shy while sitting directly across the table from him. He talked about his cats and the music he was listening to at that time. I was introduced to Ray as someone who was also doing a solo show (my Theatre of sorts Bag Lady shows). I couldn’t say a word in response because I thought it was preposterous to compare what I was doing to Ray’s incredible work which we had just seen at the Westbeth. Ray nodded and said something like “it’s not easy doing a solo show” and I nodded sagely and someone else spoke and I was thankfully relieved of having to say anything more!

It was very fun reading other people’s stories of meeting Ray, Dave, Mick, Pete and the later band members. And even more delightful, seeing names I knew along with names that were unfamiliar. But all the stories were deeply familiar in that we fans were sharing our most meaningful encounters with the band and the music. I do wish there had been more stories from the early days. I cherish the story of the 14 year old fan who booked The Ravens for a church youth club in 1963 — oh to have been there!

We get stories from support musicians and crew members over the years, as well as from other artists who were influenced by the Kinks. We also read of those who met their life partners through Kinks connections, and even a story of a second generation fan’s memories of a concert he experienced at age 8! There are stories of fans traveling great distances in perilous weather and those who travel across the pond to attend the annual Kinks conventions and sing-alongs with the KinksFan Kolektiv. The book also includes photos taken by fans, including two on the cover by my good Kinks pal Marianne Spellman, who instructed me in the fine art of concert recording involving the use of a box of tampons hidden in one’s purse!

After making once such recording, I was standing in line for autographs, in a theatre north of London (circa 1995), the security guard was about to shut the door in my face. I believe I began to cry because I was the last person in line and it seemed so cruel to shut me out! My tears eventually worked and he let me in, quickly closing the door behind me. That’s when I got my copy of X-Ray autographed.

Reading tales of concerts over the decades brought back so many vivid memories of sights and sounds — I only missed one US tour from Soap Opera through the Ray and Dave solo shows. Many years, I would travel to other cities to see multiple shows per tour. I found myself slowing down while reading the concert stories, instantly awash in the power of those relived performances. Ray performing Head Master in mask! Balancing a beer bottle on his head for Demon Alcohol! Dave’s guitar ripping through my soul! And oh, the encores! More! More! Don’t Stop!

Afterwards, the crowd dispersed across the city with good night calls of Way-O sending the Misfits home. Thank you to Chris Kocher and all my fellow fans and Kinks-mates for evoking these precious “moments to remember all our lives.”

Thank You For the Days is available most places you can buy books. Here’s the original publisher’s link: SonicBond Publishing

Greetings to all friends, new and old! I am a lifelong artist, retired theatre worker and teacher, now using my time freed from wage slavery to create art and battle the plutocracy!

Life has provided me with an unexpected challenge. In the fall of 2024, my house caught on fire due to an ancient extension cord in my upstairs art studio. Fortunately, my dog Horatio, cat Bernardo and myself escaped without injury and the house was saved from total destruction. Insurance is providing me with a comfy B&B while all the major repairs take place. It has been a slow grind over the winter months. I will be posting house and garden updates here.

However, the repair of my little working class house in Kenmore, Ohio coincides with the collapse and destruction of democracy in this country. I find myself in a headspace that feels the urgent need to fix what is broken. My house will eventually be returned to code perfect condition — I wish I could say that about this country I find myself living in.

My mother wasn’t a citizen when I was born here in 1951, so I guess if any authoritarian wanted to get rid of me they could use that as a pretext. But I would not be an obvious target, unless I choose to speak up and take action. It is utterly chilling that people are being disappeared to foreign torture prisons without any legal constraints.

Personally, I never felt much in the way of patriotic loyalty to a place I was born in by mere circumstance. As a kid, I would explore the plowed farm lands looking for arrowheads. Those native inhabitants lived here and were chased away and decimated by the hordes of western civilization. My English ancestors were of the serving class, going back to seldom and always under the thumb of overlords. They migrated away from aristocracy and strict class divisions to what they thought was a democracy based on the right to liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

We humans are a migrating species. It is the height of stupidity to turn that inherent urge into some kind of brutal border policy. Tables are turning. I know many folks are migrating the hell out of the U$A — if I were younger, I’d seriously consider that. But now I feel I must stand my ground and speak up. So here we are!

I need a place to put my thoughts into words that isn’t owned by a billionaire. Confession: I haven’t done my due diligence as to who owns Substack — so here is link to a substack post with more information.

My friend Jim Slowiak of New World Performance Lab began writing on Substack when he and co-founder Jairo Cuesta moved to France. I have enjoyed spending time with his thoughts and musings. Likewise, my long time Kinks pal and pop culture queen, Marianne Spellman is here on Substack, and so I was inspired to set up a page for my own words and images that can be shared across the social media platforms I still frequent (some less frequently than others!)

One more thing — I won’t ever be charging for subs. So feel free to return if you like the content.

Wanda S. Duck (aka Wendy S. Duke)