POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
Leonard has something in his mouth after his trip around the edges of the garden. I don’t notice until he’s in the dining room, his nails clicking on the floor as he walks in circles – clearly unsure of what he’s supposed to do/wants to do. I press the sides of his mouth gently, just…
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.…