TVC Writing & Art

The past several weeks have been a mixture of positive and negative experiences for me: My first book (a collection of narratives) is forthcoming in a few months; I ran two 10K’s within two months–a first for me; I’ve developed chronic hives, which not only cause physical suffering, but anxiety, depression, and frustration from not knowing the root cause. I’ve been working on a new project called “Runner’s Log: Before Going Mad and Retiring as a Running Monk,” an illustrated creative nonfiction work-in-progress. One of the concerns that comes to the fore in this new project is this development of hive breakouts that seem to tear down all the positives that have been coming to me. I feel most alive when I run and draw and write, and depending on the results of the allergy test I’ll be taking in a couple of days, I may have to cut down on running. Then I worry that–with the history of cancer in my family–could these breakouts be a sign of something more serious than allergic reactions? If I stay on the meds the doctor put me on for allergies/hives, I also may not ever be able to drink again. Not that drinking is necessary for my happiness, but it is enjoyable to drink a glass of wine or Sake here and there. I’ve been feeling very tired as well, probably a side-effect of the powerful drugs I’ve been taking (I’m currently taking an oral steroid for this latest hive break-out, which spread to my neck, my face, my lips), which is making it difficult to do anything useful really, outside of teaching. So I binge-watch Netflix shows for a few hours not without feelings of guilt (I ought to be forcing myself to write or draw, shouldn’t I?) But it is what it is, I suppose, and all I can or should do is take it one moment at a time and let things take their course, wherever they may lead.