“I’m sad,” I tell her, looking for analog in a world of constant digital connection. “I know,” she said, “you used to write great letters, too, and you know a lot of people, but you just need your roots.” “Go outside and listen,” my mother advises. Outside, I see all the life looking for hands, all the […]Read more "go outside and listen"
There are these mornings, when the bus ride is like waking up third world or secondary planet or first fledgling nightmare. Backpack upon briefcase. Every configuration of facial hair and body musk—last night’s alcohol bleeding through perfume, students and corporate office warriors battling the commute and headache and weariness, armed with nothing but burnt coffee […]Read more "Ride"
It’s raining and I’m carrying a cardboard box under my umbrella. This box banged up against my hip squared under one arm, a cube-shaped child waiting to be filled. My moving box straddles the narrow hip saddle where babies, baskets, and boys ride alongside. Women were built to carry the weight of the world. I […]Read more "Fragile – Keep Dry – This Way Up"
We’re standing in the kitchen of my grandmother’s house. It is a room where I spent many formative hours as a child. Behind us is a circle of dark brown cabinets, swirled with the brushstrokes of the original stain, all of which have knobs with a bright orange flower in the center. The dishwasher with […]Read more "Photograph / Memory / Sketch"
“Women have sat indoors all these millions of years, so that by this time the very walls are permeated by their creative force, which has, indeed, so overcharged the capacity of bricks and mortar that it must needs harness itself to pens and brushes and business and politics.” — Virginia Woolf :::::: Today, March 8th, 2013 […]Read more "International Women’s Day (IWD) – I Write Destiny"
My mother always told me when I came out of the womb I tried to emerge upside down and ass-end first. Posterior, facing the wrong way up and Frank breech, like a folding chair or a backwards diver in pike position dropping out of the safe water and into the high, bright world. Once they […]Read more "To The Top"
“One of the things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good […]Read more "Here Be Dragons"
“On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of the conditions. Does any-one have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing […]Read more "The Force That Drives The Flower"
Ah . . . we’ve made it past the Holi-daze. A time for wrapped presents and reluctant presence. A brave and glorious attempt at striking a balance in your checking account, on your bathroom scale, and in your personal and work lives. A festive cage match of fooding and feuding set in clashing red, green, […]Read more "Heart Of Winter"