POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
Now, it seems like every morning I sit down in front of the computer I second guess myself. I wonder if I have already written down the ideas that are bouncing around my head. I am sure I have. My life is all about repeating myself (and maybe repeating what’s handed down in DNA somehow?).…
Leonard is stretched out on the floor next to me. And barking at the neighbor’s voices squeezing in through the windowsill. His concern is unconvincing. I suppose it’s nice that he feels a sense of duty. He hasn’t moved in a half an hour. I expect this morning’s exceptional walk along the trail was too…
My memory has always been poor. I’m assuming that is what can happen when people in your life rewrite your stories for you from early childhood. I was familiar with the term “gaslighting” before it became a buzzword a few years ago. At least I think I was. I know I’d seen the film with…