POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
diary
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Relevant to What?
It is an odd project – to sit down in this little room every day and write. No matter what. What comes, comes. Like dipping a bucket into a well and hoping you pull up a little container filled with clarity. Reflection. That’s a shit metaphor. Sorry. Some days nothing comes on its own. Some…
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Take off Your Red Shoes & Burn
This Sunday didn’t begin with a Dharma Talk. Which was disappointing. I’d gotten up at 05.15 assuming there existed some unspoken agreement based on a pattern I’d noticed. I went back to bed. Maybe that was lesson enough for today. I’m tired. I’m still not convinced that the burden I’ve been carrying the past two…
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The Unexpected
When I was a teenager I saw myself in New York City. That was it. After a childhood on the wrong side of the tracks in the OC (yeah, no one called it that), in the searing heat of Vegas, in the middle-of-nowhere Bakersfield, in the cold isolation of Kentucky… New York City was a…
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Where the Wood Drake Rests
“[… ] I come to into the peace of wild things / who do not tax their lives with forethought / of grief.”from “The Peace of Wild Things” by Wendell Berry This morning E. stops me in the kitchen and wraps his arms around me, and I find it annoying – this intrusion into my…
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Continuing on a Theme
Practicing contentment is a radical act in a consumption-driven society. ROBIN WALL KIMMERER It’s interesting that after years of charting my moods on the advice of therapists with various degrees, the Buddhist teacher I listen to now talks about “feelings”. In this system of categorizing, there are only three feelings: pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. Moods…