Today is the 35th anniversary of the French government issuing a stamp in honour of my uncle, Mario Avati. Mario was one of a few artists who reinvigorated the mezzotint in the 20th century. We have some framed first day covers hanging at home. Pardon my crap photography.
More details on Mario here: http://rogallery.com/Avati_Mario/avati-biography.html
and mezzotints here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mezzotint
Since last fall, I’ve been on an every three months regime of getting scanned. Two have been chest and abdomen, other was just my lungs. They are tracking the speed of spots in my lungs, looking for anything to get bigger. The last scan, done at the end of June, showed my largest lesion at about 2cm diameter, and growing a couple mm every 3 months. It showed the other ones “unchanged.” This is too slow to be alarming, but they want to track it, along with a tumor marker in my blood.
One possibility is that they will shoot a beam of radiation at the big lesion if it’s growing faster than everything else. Another is that they’ll do nothing until they see a rapid increase in the pace of growth.
What all this means is that I’ve gone into a kind of cycle: the best parts of the year are between the time my doctor finishing the appointment where he says “we’ll do another scan in 3 months” and getting the scan in three months. Then there’s the waiting part in-between, which is less fun.
I don’t normally post on social media about horrific events as they happen, simply because I never have anything profound to say. Expressing my outrage here simply does nothing for the people who are actually suffering, and it doesn’t make me feel any better.
But I’ll say this about Charleston, coming on top of all the police violence against African-Americans in the last year.
When I read about the Charleston shooting, coming on top of a year of police violence against African-Americans, a part of me reacts with the hope that this violence is the last, desperate paroxysm of white supremacy as it stumbles off its pedestal into the fog of history, like so many other imperial formations before it.
Another part of me fears that it’s just business as usual.
We won’t have a way to be sure of the difference, except — I hope, one day — in retrospect.