POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
I slept in this morning. An old-fashioned flu is tap dancing in my head. And the news is unsettling. Understatement. The news is terrifying. Overstatement. I have made a decision to choose a few media outlets and not get my information from social media. There is a voice in my head that says that continuing…
This morning I have been thinking about what I want out of life. Not in terms of a stockpile of accomplishments or acquisitions. But which moments do I want to squeeze from the days? What does a good day look like? I haven’t really been taking photos since the end of summer. And it feels…
Dizzy this morning. Waking again in a shirt so damp it borders on wet. Oh, these growing pains. I remember when growing pains were the deep throbs behind a breast bud, an ache in the femur that felt like the sharp edge of cold. Now there is the ache in the femur that is the…
A slow morning. The minutes, the hours wasted. I have been doing a lot of that these past two years. There’s nothing smooth about the way I drive through the days. I can give myself whiplash gunning the engine like this. I think the rain has finally stopped. But the sky is still a uniform,…
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…