its official!


It’s official. At 9:26pm Thursday 10th of September i sent out my first query letter to an agent i thought highly of. I discovered her months ago and kept returning to her profile to check i still felt the same about her. For some reason i get a good vibe from her but i’d be the luckiest son of a bitch to bag the first and only agent i reached out to. Im prepared for 5 years of rejection and a mental breakdown when i hit forty with novel dead in the water. But… you know i’m trying to hope for the best see?

No one besides myself has read it and thats likely a huge mistake, but when you have no friends and trust no-one that is the price you pay i suppose. It’s the solitude i like best. I’ll probably ask my shipmate Pat to read it — he’s the only person i know besides Jack and i that still reads. I reckon he’ll get a good story out of it.

The thing i don’t like about this part of the process is that it makes me feel weak and helpless, perhaps a little embarrassed? Putting blood on the chopping block just to be poured to the chickens. I don’t mind rejection its another step towards a positive end but the in between i think will be the deal and the straw for me. I’ve had work stolen previously and go on to be published with great success. I don’t know if i can live through that again, however, my novel i suppose is worth every risk.

Simply a short message from me tonight — figured i should mark the occasion and celebrate a little victory.
Heres to you and your goodnights sleep.

home at last

Well, it’s been a month. A month that felt like hell and high water was kicking me in the lip the whole damn time. Friday was my last day at work, so finally some pressure will be off for a while and thank hell for that. I tell you. Moving during covid, packing the entire house, training LeDoux as well as working full time — utterly overwhelming. And the whole time i just wanted to sleep and write. I don’t think i’ve written properly for a month. I’ve taken notes and had word prose coming out of my ears — why sure. But i haven’t had a novel thought since Laramie. Laramie which seems so far far away now. It already feels so far in the past but it was less than two weeks ago.

Yellow Texas flowers
Fields of flowers.

I didn’t want to leave Wyoming and it’ll always have a place in my heart, as will the Black Hills and the dead gulch of South Dakota, but i was ready to go back to Texas where i can buy my heart full of land to live on. Not wanting to move or pack boxes anymore or live through old furniture that has eight poor-man generations of farts and ugly seeds living in the lining. A new start in an old place with a clear vision ahead and dead reckoning the rest. It’s good to be back.

Palo Duro Canyon, TX

After all these long years out there in the states living and dreaming — we’re finally home in the Lone Star state. It sure is weird to be back. The place has changed a lot and i almost don’t recognise it. I’ve had job interviews, but selfishly i’ve been hoping it’d take a little while for them to get back to me so i have a chance to catch up on a few things. As i said. Friday was my last day working for my job in Laramie, Wy. Covid at least enabled me to keep my job whilst moving and a little thereafter. Everything was sent in, but no one spoke to me for the last week or two. And no thanks or goodbye. Not that i expected any. Riddance and good and feck away. Im glad to be unburdened by it all.

Dog off leash
LeDoux free running like a boss.

I wanted to restart this post once or twice but theres no real way to express learning for the first time what coming home really feels like. My heart pumps in my chest desperately trying not to wake me from my reverie, but im really here. Out in the fields amongst the horses and june bugs zooming at 80miles a minute into my face. Doux running like freedom could lift him. And on top of it all our apartment is ace with a view of the paddocks and outback of  piney bush n’ wood.

Dog and horse communicatin through fence
One of his new best friends.

Returning to Texas was like being welcomed with opens arms and served a dr.pepper in a glass bottle as soon as the welcome sign flew past the window. All that long time no see bullshit but this time it cut me up and i fell head over boots once more for the Lone Star State. Right now im unemployed and the place is settled enough that i hope i can work on my writing again next week. There are a few other ventures im hoping to dip into while i figure out my next steps. Some acting, stand up prospects and filming ideas. I’ve been considering trying to get an acting agent but i don’t if i want to drown myself down in that rabbit hole. I mean, i want to act but i dont know how it all works. Whether i’d need two separate agents for acting and writing. Meh. Time will tell. For now its crap o’clock and all i got is dreaming to do.

Deadwood Gulch, Dakota Territory


Well, my time came, there in the gulch of rotting gold mines, smoke and dead wood i turned the ripened age of twenty eight. I don’t feel any older. I dont’ feel aged at all. I reckon  i’ll stop recognising my birthday as time goes on, feels a little like i’m living on a timer. It’s not an attempt to escape the daunting journey of old age and perspiring into the casket — more a case of saving my brain from feeling like its got so much to accomplish and far too little time to do it in. I don’t expect to grow old much anyhow.

This year my birthday was something out of this world, something more fitting of the old world we all left behind — a world most of us choose to forget because we’re too scared to face how cruel we could be. Jack surprised me with a trip to Deadwood, South Dakota, a place i’d always wanted to see. I wanted to walk to the badlands, sculk around Chinatown and stay at the Bullock Hotel on Mainstreet with its ghosts and windows looking into the old thoroughfare. All of which we did. Together the best way i know how to be.


We rode the Cheyenne to Deadwood Stagecoach around town and made fast friends with the drivers. They asked us to move into the house down the street and start working the town with them. And that was only the first hours of our first full day, my birthday.  We found a new favourite haunt in the Wild Bill Bar, the original number 10 lot on discovery where Wild Bill Hickok was shot by Jack McCall, with a buckboard full of dead animals nailed to the wall and red lantern lights hanging from the embellished bar frame; we couldn’t resist the place. I hope to make it there often even though it’ll soon be nine to twelve hours away. I shall never forget my life, though brief, when it was in South Dakota.

We visited Mount Moriah where Hickok, Calamity Jane and many other familiar names rest in peace, at least for the most part. Seth Bullock and his wife rest on top of the hill (its actually a god damn mini mountain haha), forever looking over Teddy’s tower somewhere beneath trees on the other side of the gulch. It was murder for me getting up that damn hill but it was worth it, i of course insisted on wearing my finery, to see my sweet Calamity and pay my respects to her and her supposed lover of time gone by, all of which consisted of boots, linen shirt with long sleeves, my good felt hat and my best jeans.

I see a lot of myself in Martha Canary. I suppose all my years i always had been a little different. I cut off my hair and i dressed as boy for most of my youth, and even once my hair grew back, and to this day, im still largely mistaken for a man. The cussing and such dont much help on that account. All this while i was dreaming of living in a place where it always felt free and everything else was unnecessary. It was a dream i didn’t believe would come true. The difference between her and i, is that my choice of self neglect is not juicing the corn, i have long since made the decision not to drink but that didn’t hold up all that long in Deadwood. No. Its a place where the folks are good, the nights are something to aware of but the Black Hills are scared land and i have never in my life seen anything as beautiful. There were fresh water creeks laced with wild bank flowers of all colours. Red deer danced and pranced through life all safe and fine. A little ways away you’ll even see mountains and hills full of buffalo. Right now their babies are all red, small and unsteady but perfect. Anyway, Calamity to me is who i am by day, all cussing and unladylike.  However when my depressive state  and sad sad suicidal ideations take over i believe i become more like Joanie Stubbs. Thats what i’ve named the dark side of my life. Joanie and Jane. I don’t mean that in some weird fan obsession in regards to the show or movie, i mean that as a survivor and that is something that helps me keep on.


Deadwood for me was always going to be a game changer, i just had that feeling you know? And in my previous blogpost where i mention coming to the end of our travelling days, the end of finding some foreign state to live in being done. Well i don’t know.  I could move yesterday to be amongst the Black Hills. Its holy ground to the Indians, the red nation, whatever they prefer. We’ve caused a lot of harm on that land, any land, but to me that land is a powerful, a spiritual place and something i can never un-feel. It all lives there on those hills. Though we may never move there, its a place to come as often as a wage allows.


Theres something wild and strange about meeting real like minded people who just fit into your life like puzzle pieces created millions of miles apart. The folks doing the street and bar shows took to us quick and fast. They were all like us and they impressed us as i believe we impressed them. I never have had the feeling that i wanted to interact with people, because i always felt that my head and my heart were some place else. Somewhere i’d never find anyone worth talking to who was the same. But i found  folks in Texas, and i sure as shit found some in Deadwood to boot.

For now i believe thats all i have. Im trying to juggle a lot lately. Training LeDoux, working full time, packing house, keeping appointments and writing and reading. Sadly i dont believe i’ll have my photo editing time till im in my new place in Texas. We’ll see.

our travelling days

Well, we’re coming to the end of our life in Wyoming. Our travelling days toward a brighter tomorrow are taking one last trek along the American frontier. Down to the deep South where it all began like a midsummer nights dream of lovers and fairytales and foolish fools. With our bundles packed and LeDoux in tow we’re making our way home. To Texas. The God Of All Places. Truly.  I’m sad to see Wyoming go, but i’m proud to say i lived here and that i love the state. Forever i will. 

 But life is too damn short for long winters and 9 months of hermitting beneath blankets by a tiny nordic stove. Besides, I’m ready to settle on down and build a homestead with corals, barns and film sets. Horses galore and rescued burros. Im ready to live writing and making short films for the end of time, rescuing critters and driving around in new trucks. 

I will miss the cactus in the deserted plains of Laramie valley, the antelope prancing on the plains and the wild mustangs — how dear to me they are. Of course. I had hoped that Wyoming would be it, but whenever im away from Texas something is nagging at me. 

 I’ll miss the vistas and remember them fondly. And i shall forever be mad that i missed my chance at getting a good close up photo of a moose and that i never did see those grizzly bastards with the mean dispositions. There are many things i didn’t see that i wanted to, mostly because the winters are so harsh meaning we have only really had a month or two so far that hasn’t been snowing. South Pass city (the one i’m most bummed about not seeing), Jackson hole, the hole in wall, Grand Tetons and Yellowstone are for another time. Another go, maybe another life if thats how it all looks. Thats alright. Im learning to let the world go a little. 

We’ll return to Wyoming one day and what i did experience i am grateful for. I don’t believe i would’ve ever finished my novel in New England, and when i lived in Texas i was in a much younger mindset than i am today. That girl up there is still a dumb toddler but now she’s a little more devilish and easy. I found the place i gotta go, and now im going. For good. Thank you for the memories Wyoming, and im sorry to cut our little love affair short. But when the Lone Star State calls — you gotta go. 

jlit

well, its spring — so its about time for my big danish christmas holiday blog post

I’ve been meaning to write about this and post my pictures for … well months now. I don’t even dare look at my abandoned line of drafted blog posts. I have some from as long ago as Huntsville Texas, if you can believe it. Anyway, i’ll write about the blog post now and try to remember the holiday as best i can.

When i go home its always hard, not as easy and full of sheer joy as i’m sure most of you would suppose. The more often i go home to more i feel like i shouldn’t leave or i shouldn’t come back again. Thats a terrible thing to say, i know and am well fucking aware — but it’s the truth. Coming home is the most difficult thing to do on the planet, when home is a place you’ve hardly seen all your mortal days. Being with family for a fleeting moment only to disappear again for years at a time. It feels like that pain is pointless and more trouble than its worth. Sounds like i’m not happy to see them doesn’t it? Well, of course i am happy to see them — but they don’t know me anymore just as i barely recognise them.

We went to Denmark for around 3 weeks, and i’m still paying for that privilege. My workplace is actually still charging me for the right to have taken a christmas vacation. They  ailed to make me aware when i brought it up in my interview, and a hundred times there after, to tell me that vacation on either side of the schools Christmas vacation means you pay for the whole damn thing. It’s May and I’m still losing $350 a month for taking this holiday. Thanks.

However, on to more happy posting from here. I noticed when i was blogging from my phone in denmark my blog views and so forth actually sky rocketed. I was so surprised and really unsure why that was the case, because i was posting pretty poor phone pictures (not from my Nikon or Canon or vintage cameras), and i was merely posting in between trips and visits while i was sitting my parents leather sofa watching crime programs; but it did some wonders for my blog traffic — so i’ve set it up so i can permanently blog from my phone and when my 8 to 5 isn’t the huge nuisance that it is, i plan to do more off hand little short travelling posts.

Mor showing us around the property our first morning.
God morgen. <3


Now this might sound terrible, but what i most looked forward to was seeing my cats again, they have always been so dear to me and they got me through a lot of bad times by sitting on my face or doing goofy stuff. So seeing Daisy and Charlie again made me so so happy — especially after losing Basil. I had some treasures back in my life, even if it was for a fleeting moment.

Daisy being mad at me for being gone so long and pretending she doesn’t want my attention, when she obviously wants my attention.
No place does foggy, gloom like mornings quite like Denmark.

My parents house is a fortress, and i love it. I wish i could spend more relaxed time there but considering my circumstances its not really feasible. The first few days we chilled with my mum to get over the jet lag, and it was fucking A, my brothers were in Denmark too which was a bonus. A few days later my Pap-Kent came home from a work trip and that was when we were all finally together again, all of us, since England some time ago. It was special, annoying and lovely. Hell knows when we’ll all be together again but it probably wont be for a while. Im thinking our next holiday will be to Disneyland or the Caribbean, but never say never!

My favourite boots in one of my favourite places.

Yes, i packed these heavy ass boots because i can’t go ANYWHERE without a pair of cowboy kickers. And i love this picture, because it really shows the contrast. These boots walk the desert and plains daily, yet for Christmas they waded through tall rich blades of grass on a little island in Denmark. Literally my life. A big cock up different cultures. These boots look a lot more worse for wear these days — all covered in dust and holding on spurs.

Den gamle øl bænk.
I woke up so early almost every morning of the holiday, and i’d grab my camera to watch the world wake up. Often Charlie would coming running to me when he heard me and together we’d go back in the house when everyone starting waking up.
The cute little town of Bogense a little ways from my parents place.

Jack the Texan in a little old Danish town, dressed as an Irishman.

Danish towns are really really special. Comforting. And i love walking through them and looking through the windows.


The day after Kent came home we went out to see the highland cattle and visit the farms store. The proprietor, a very lovely lady, let me in to the pastures to pet the cows and now i want one. Or fifty.

Messy baby just had breakfast. Beard got in the way.


We also got to meet her very talkative chickens that believed we were only there to meet them. They clucked and rapped and peep peep peeped with all the chicken gossip. Above you can see Pap-Kent with a bunch of chicks.


That same day we also visited the bison “ranch” and got see these beauties. Bison are some of my favourite animals. Almost right up there with the Texas Longhorn and the American mustang.





Obligatory picture of Norse Fjord horses in a nordic country.


After our little livestock trip we went out to get a christmas tree from a roadside elf attraction. Something i always loved as a child, and still do, is that Denmark has little places like this set up and it looks like a real little elfs house. Even in Kolding you’ll find Santas house and in the Christmas month you can go in and visit him. Its so festive and i’ve never see it any place else — and i’ve been a lot of places. Sweden and Norway probably do similar things.

Elf woman who sold us our tree.
More chickens that had something very special to tell me.


I want all the things. ALL.


Our christmas tree, and i think it ended up being the most beautiful we’ve ever had because almost all the kids decorated it together. After Christmas my mum set up the tree in her garden. She’s just like me. Doesn’t to see them die after being used for a month — so she decorated it for easter and its still happily planted in her back garden. But thats why we use plastic trees at home — because i refuse to pay money to cut them down only to use them for a month, and then throw them away because they’re a fire hazard and “ugly.”

Suzy, my sisters dog. On our way outside to shit in the most ridiculous places because dog.
That there is my brother Franck.

Daim and anything kinder is food of the gods.


On the 23rd we had Christmas with Farmor in Kolding. It was wonderful and just what i wanted. Quiet, relaxed and safe. The only place that never changes and im so grateful for that. Believe me. Christmas at Farmors house is always the best. Films, Danish christmas food and copious amounts of chocolates, sweets and such forth that i miss when im away.


The best part of Christmas is the roast duck and the desert.


Jack found the almond and wont the prize, 100kr — which Farmor had her eye on to take back if no- one found the almond.


Franck did not win. Franck was not happy.


Franck and i with Far Dall. <3


And our Swedish Aunty Connie. I was SO glad Jack got to meet her because she’s such a character, and we all laughed like witches.  <3


This is Monty, and he will ONLY play with me. No one else. SO when i arrive we have to concentrate on making sure he is happily entertained with feathered things and fluffy mice. Because he doesn’t play for years at a time because im away. He is an enormous Norwegian Forest cat.


The best Christmas. Only Basil and Farfar were missing.

This is where Jack, Franck and i stayed in Kolding before returning back to Fyn. Nice little apartment type hostel thing hotel whatever.


Another beautiful morning.


And another morning that i had to get up and photograph.


I saw it shining through the window, the entire room was almost hot pink thats how bright it was and it was still 4.30am.


Charlie getting highs from the Christmas tree.


Decorating time! Mum let me pick a few things to take home with me for my own Christmas tree. So i can have a bit of home when i’m in America. Christmas and Birthdays can be hard for me, from time to time, because i’m used to a big loud annoying family. Luckily i have Jack who makes plans and keeps me going. We always have sweet little Christmasses (?) by ourselves. Cooking enough food just for two, Basil would get a special Christmas dinner and wear a wooly sweater, thats all we ever needed. The three musketeers.


We all decorated the Christmas tree together — aside from Steph. She was working. Boooo.


Kasper and Franck.


Cat + Box = Daisy in Box.


Buck toothed Gritty and her brother of many colours.





Charlie sneaking into the presents because no one in our family can stay away from presents.















The red house is  Santas house — the one i previously mentioned.




















Denmark for me is a tough subject. And the holiday was nothing too extraordinary, and we didn’t want it to be. We saw the places, spent time with my family and i knitted a lot of socks for my mum. Like a lot. But other than that there was really nothing to report. And thats why theres more pictures than writing. Going home after having been… home…. why it sucks. Believe it. It confuses me and hurts me. Every time i leave Denmark its feels like i’m leaving my inner innocent child behind, and i get so little time with her enough as it is. Coming back to America is coming back to real life.
After coming home this time i was CERTAIN i wanted to move back. Having been back in America for a few months — i’m sure to hell that i don’t. And thats the constant battle haha. Anyway, i hope you enjoyed the pictures. I realise the writing is sparse but sometimes pictures are enough.
Stay safe and healthy out there.