Afterwards, I am a subtraction. On the periphery. Exterior. Pinched into thin concaving bows of salty smoke. I inhale, and blow out. Ballooned contouring at a distance. Alone, I am here. I can’t remember if it was by choice. Separate but not entirely abandoned, until the lines connect and collide emptied of me. Habitual.... Continue Reading →
I still have a lot I want to share about Brave Magic. So here is post three: all about *MOTHERFUCKATUDE*, as coined by Cheryl Strayed. When I think about power in a general sense, I usually get stuck on how it is misused by old white guys -- the patriarchy, you know? And how systems... Continue Reading →
Yeah, still digging through life, you guys. Going back back back through the archives of old websites to find old poetry. Thought I'd post a few here––ones that won't be getting a rewrite/revision/repurpose. These aren't my best by any means, but there are a few lines in both that leave me with that feeling poetry... Continue Reading →
Recently, I have been going through my old writing -- old websites, old books, old photo albums, doing research of my life like I have a test coming up. This is all of course, for my book and it has been incredibly therapeutic and all-consuming. Today, I found a post that I wrote on June... Continue Reading →
The only thing that has been saving my sanity over the past two weeks is working through my notes from Brave Magic. Because, what on earth is happening in our country right now? What world am I living in? Oh yeah, one run by powerful, old white men. Just double checking. Here we go.... One... Continue Reading →
It has been a week since I set off on my Brave Magic weekend with Cheryl Strayed and Elizabeth Gilbert. For a week, I have been working hard to articulate what happened. Working through my notes to create some kind of real and true testimony of my experience. Working on saying [[out loud]] how I... Continue Reading →
Needed: A new ritual Because, you know what is not ideal? When you finally get some clarity on a very important project, and then––your time is sucked into the universe with other things. Other things that are actually super important and can’t be ignored or directed elsewhere or postponed. I have 14 chapters of a... Continue Reading →
There are still white shrouds, blue skies cannibalizing white puffs of cloud. A soundtrack on antique canvas. On the other side of the world, familiar brush strokes pink bells hang in the salmon sky Like tattered-heart blood, pumping. We are the grey night holding their soft song. Enigmatic echos, a memory of tragedy Perplexed, uneased.... Continue Reading →
In The Way 