nOT JUST a book, a survival strategy
In December 2015, a vein clogged on the left side of my mother's brain and changed everything.
Absolutely everything for her. But a lot too for my father, me and Dog, our dog.
Sharing this story is my strategy to push through the biggest life crisis I've ever found myself.
The book begins nine months after the event, in this existencial drowning of mine, and ends in December 2016.
When, possibly, my mother will have walked again ― and I, possibly, will have found ground again.
THE existenTial CRISIS IN 4 bullet points
- From almost a moneyless life activist to a mere confused anticapitalist
- From an entrepreneur of oneself to the mother's caregiver ― but also the father's and Dog's
- From a zero waste enthusiastic to a disguised waste producer
- From ok with being single to why the fuck?! this has been a lifetime fucking constant
nature's modus operandi
I've learned in a course that nature always does the best next thing possible now. Always.
Amid the distress and anguish that have infiltraded me again, I keep asking myself.
What's the best next thing now that I can do? What's the best next thing now that I can do?
Write this book, keeps coming. Write this book.
an autobiography, then?
Amanda Palmer says that we put our own experiencies into a blender in order to make art.
Some get to a purée, in speed 9 to 10, crunching everything up until the unrecognizable.
Others leave whole pieces to show, blending their own reality in such a very slow rotation.
I find myself on this latter group ― my inside skin ingredients, thirsty for sense, blended in 1 to 3.
But whatch out: except for Dog and the authors that come along, not even I carry my own name.