The stars spin around her room, like we are underwater, in a fishbowl in a house in a life of coming and going. The rain has started and the mornings are so dark, stars bleed into the hallway, on the floor of the kitchen where the cat paws at the rug. The stream of cosmos... Continue Reading →
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 →
This past weekend, I attended a small, intimate writing workshop on mindfulness and creative writing. I heard about it only the day before it happened and when I read the description, I felt pulled to go immediately. Now, if you know me––you'll understand that I calendar the shit out of my life. I am two... 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 →
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 →
We will be headed to Spain in just a few weeks, so I have found myself reading some Spanish poets to gear up. Federico Garcia Lorca was a poet I read often as an undergrad, but not much since. It was lovely to revisit some of his words, and this one in particular made me... Continue Reading →
Sometimes, it still feels like I am in the throws of it all. The pressure, the wincing pull, the relief of breath. It is a constant rebirth -- this motherhood. You came into the world, pulled out with force. Not one push. Just a body, jostled like a wave on a cold, grey slab. Florescent... Continue Reading →
In The Way 