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The Rubbing Strake
There’s an old saying by able seamen that if your ship sinks below the strake, the pronounced plank that runs along the hull below the sheer line, it’s lost to the sea.
For almost 2 years I’ve been caught in an unrelenting and merciless storm brought in large part by the tragic end to Indiana’s life. At times I feared the swells of sadness would consume me. But having survived near death on so many occasions throughout my travels, I sailed as swift and certain as I could to steer out of it.
The raging seas never rose above the rubbing strake and I remain unsunk.
I now live in South Austin in a small studio flat. And most importantly Grayson is finally back with his Papi. For a year I was without him, trying to right my ship and square it away for my next journey, one that’s already begun.
I came to Austin to pursue art and comedy and I am finally starting to build inroads on both fronts. This week I’ll be revealing a few of those as I am back now on social media. And for good as there is much work to be done, many stories to share, and dreams still to realize.
My deep apologies for missing so much of your lives and the many friends I’ve made along the way. But this leg of my journey I had to sail solo and in silence to make it through.
Thank you to those who are still with me and who have never doubted. I am, and always, Yer Big Dog.
Puppy Up. Talk Soon.
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