POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
journaling
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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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Forcing the Morning
Parkinson’s Law. Tuesday mornings I have a late start at work, and when the alarm goes off at the usual time, and when E. isn’t here with his own obligations, I find myself negotiating with myself. My morning routine takes 2 and a half hours, and I start counting backwards to see if I can…
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Practice
Ann E. Michael writes about practice. She’s been writing since she was 10, and though she’s lost the pages, she has the memories. Sometimes I wonder if all these gaps in my life – the seasons lost from memory – have been lost exactly because I didn’t take the time to write them into being.…
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And take my waking slow
Sunday. And still in my pajamas. The skies are clear and the air is cold, and at some point I will get up from this desk, get dressed and go to the beach. It is one of those days that – in recollection tomorrow – will be smudged across my mind: leaving just a fraction…
