POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
You can’t wander into a flow if you never begin moving. I’ve begun thinking in terms of platitudes, I’m afraid. It is probably time for another break from social media. There’s never enough time in the day – and that has to be a matter of structure and attention, not time. A matter of pulling…
This morning I am making significant changes in how I use social media. This is part of a huge shift in my priorities in general. How I want to use my time. In some ways, it feels odd to do this now. It seems self-serving. Focusing on that very first circle of awareness at a…
In this place of crossing over, of remembering and forgetting, of waking and sleep. Where we cram the shadows like post-it notes into our pockets before we travel: “I will half-remember this wherever I go.” On this side of the looking glass, where we register the fluid world in oversimplified, stop-motion bits, we collect them…
This morning I am moving so slowly I can see the minutes lining up behind me. And I think suddenly of standing in line for milk at some elementary school. I remember the texture of my dress. The smell of the dry air, and the sour, sick smell of leaked milk that sticks to the…
Another night of ruminating. It is the oddest thing. My mind fixated on a single incidence as an illustration of my inadequacy. Some humiliation. A sentence I shouldn’t have said. An omission of etiquette. Hygiene. And it is cold comfort to consider that no one actually saw/heard/interpreted things the way I did. Things – facts…