I've already put this out on several gay men's online social networks I belong to. Please let me know if you have any leads for me, and/or forward it (with all due discretion).



I'm a starving-but-not-lazy artist looking for a patron of the arts.



My primary media are folk music (which I pursued professionally for 10 years), non-fiction writing (which I've been doing, sometimes for money, often for my own future projects, since I was 14), poetry writing (also since age 14), and, most recently, visual art. (My strongest passion for the past few years has been collage/assemblage.)



I've been living with my best friend (think Will and Grace) for the past four years while she has dealt with impaired mobility. In recent months, she has had her knee replaced and is now much more mobile and less in need of my support, and, moreover, she has given our slumlord notice that we will be moving at the end of October.



The tricky part is that neither of us knows where we will move to. She is tied to central Ohio because of work, which just cut her back to 60% of her previous hours and salary. I have chronic but manageable cardiovascular health concerns for which I receive excellent care at a sliding-scale clinic nearby, but I am more willing to leave town than she is.



I have friends all over the country with whom I *could* couch-surf, but my major concern is space for all my stuff: artifacts of all of my artistic interests-most artists are pack rats because everything has potential artistic use-and from grad school (theology); add to that my library, my music and instruments, technical equipment (I self-publish and sometimes record), recipes for a cookbook project... I need dry, temperate space to spread out and stay spread out in and be left to my own devices.



My companion and I may continue to be housemates, but she no longer makes enough money to rent space for more than herself, so that scenario is unlikely. My circle of local friends has shrunk thanks to my travels and their moving on or changing interests, and I long ago stopped asking my family for help: favors have too many strings attached.



So what the hey-I'll put it out to the æther: I need space to manifest my art(s) with someone whose housing costs are in no way dependent on my ability to pay. I have no visible means of support, no assets, and massive school-loan debt.



I'm a conscientious and engaging housemate, emotionally low-maintenance with some formal training in conflict resolution, and more tolerant than my strident opinions might indicate at first. I describe myself as "a very silly curmudgeon."



Important: I refuse to live in a house that is smoked in. Also relevant: I don't eat the flesh of mammals and rarely eat the flesh of feathered creatures. I do eat swimming creatures, eggs, and dairy products and am pretty adventurous culinarily within those parameters.



I've lived on the edge like this for most of the years since 1992 and have learned to live on next to nothing as long as I have a roof over my head and access to good charitable medical care, so I'm not looking for a sugar daddy. (That would be silly since I'm 50 years old: I have many daddylike qualities myself.) Sexual intimacy with a gay/bi male patron is not, however, out of the question—chemistry will tell.



Though I am not currently generating money with my artistic skills, the support I need is far more passive than active. Think of me as a monk (only not celibate!) or a troubadour, and of yourself as a patron of the arts, for I am serious about living my life as an artist: I may appear something of a bum, but I'm no mere slacker.



I have no criminal history (being in default on student loan debt aside), no kids, no critters, no un-filed-for divorces. I've never done illegal/recreational drugs or even been drunk. I'm not certifiably nuts and I've had the same Social Security Number all my life. I have no unrecorded aliases, nor have I any other tricks up my sleeve. I have much to contribute to a household.



If you have any interest in discussing this proposition, please message me here at my LJ mailbox.

"Don't do it! Listen to your gut and to your brother-in-law: these people are lying to you and do not have your best interests at heart. God isn't as rigid or as desperate as they've led you to believe. They are not good for you, and they will mess you up for twice again as long as you've been with them. Leaving is the right thing to do; do not go back to them."

 I know it's been three months since I announced that my heart had gone out of LJ. I haven't done much blogging anywhere, and I don't know how often I'll come back here, but I'm not gone. I'm still here.



Sandi had her knee replacement three and a half weeks ago and is doing spectacularly well—frankly, far better than I would ever have predicted. Her genetic stubborn streak kicked in, apparently. Today she nearly forget her cane when she left a convenience store, which is a good great sign. She mainly just needs to build some endurance.



We never did figure out exactly what was causing the itching, except that it was definitely a histamine reaction. They gave me a shot in the butt of some antihistamine that would then naturally time-release as it emptied out of the muscle. It was a bit weird—I hadn't had a shot in the butt since I went to a pediatrician. The skin on my arms still looks like hell, but the itching has all but vanished (knock wood). I will see my regular doc on Monday, anyway, so of course we'll follow up with that.



Never heard back from The Doctors, but I feel more at peace with the hand I've been dealt than I expected to this soon after having put the pieces of the story together. If you don't understand the reference here, never mind.



Partly because caring for Sandi has kept me busy and partly because we've all but stopped buying 2-liters of soft drinks for the house and are using the money to buy fresh fruit in season, I've finally lost a couple pounds. It's nice not to feel quite so bloated all the time.



I've been watching erotic videos now that I have DSL. So I save time browsing just so I can squander it watching gay porn. Sandi hauled out the flat keyboard that can with this iMac mini, and I love it! I make lots fewer mistakes with it, including that my left pinkie hits the cPS LOCK  lot less when I aim for the "a" key.



I've seen a couple of guys in the past few months. Both very nice guys, and very nice to be, um, "with." The one who's less available is, of course, the one I like better. I'm using Connexion, a lot, which allows one to interact as though with real people. I still miss Justin, but I'm not agonizing over him any more.



Men are such strange creatures. But I'm just intrigued with them. I wonder if and when I'll find one who doesn't want to live without and me who rings my chimes, as well?

OMG, we finally upgraded from dialup to DSL! My life is gonna be sooooo different!



Sandi is making great progress in recuperating from her knee replacement surgery last Wednesday.



I've had some weird skin rash all over my back, shoulders, and arms for nearly a week. At first it looked like bug bites, then it looked like prickly heat, then it looked like hives (depending on where), and then it looked like goosebumps... Sometimes it itches like mad and sometimes not at all. No clue what it is—I'll have to bite the bullet and arrange to see a dermatologist, I guess... Allergies, perhaps—I had a blistery, itchy rash all over my arms a few summers ago, maybe something allergenic that was thriving then is thriving again? *shrug*

My heart has sort of gone out of LJ for the time being. I'll be back when it is.