POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
I am thinking today about how things can change suddenly, when nothing has changed. An interior reality that moves independently from the weather or circumstance. Now, in this moment, I am angry or content or want to pick up and begin again new somewhere that smells differently. Spin the wheel. I latch onto reasons for…
It’s raining this morning. I think it may be why I slept late. Sitting on the sofa looking out the window, a slipped ray of sunlight coming from behind my house, over my roof, hit the white trim on the neighbor’s roof to set it glowing against the slate sky. This happens often. I sit…
I slept well. The first night in four or five nights, maybe. I woke yawning, but clearer than I’ve been in a few days. This morning I noticed I put last night’s pork chop leftover in the freezer not the refrigerator. I also can’t find my nifty hole-punch pen. My first thought is that Leonard…
I think this is the third year that I am trying to read a small bit of Rilke each night before bed. I am good at morning routines, but my days always unravel and evening routines have never been something I have managed to follow through on. But though I am never patient, I am…
Does the earth itself grieve its half-deaths its own evisceration shrouding itself in plastics?