Starting From Scratch (for the Third Time this Week)

I keep expecting to fall into a rhythm, but I know I haven’t found my Practice yet…

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Dear J,

[an open letter]

I don’t ever do this, but I just got done picking up Steve from the airport and the chamomile tea hasn’t kicked in quite yet. So I’m writing an open letter…

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The Dreams I Left Behind

[a poem]

dark room around me curtain blocks the dawn postponing kiss of light off the dewdrops on the lawn – I’m really not that strong awake tho nothing can sustain my sight or blind weak for all my genius re-spin them or to wind – the dreams I left behind Photo by Michael B. Stuart on […]

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Migraine: A Day Wasted

Every time, I tell myself it’s the last time. But then I open YouTube just to lull myself to sleep and all of a sudden it’s 2 AM. And the next day, I am useless until 5 o’clock. (Because that’s when my migraines usually end – between 5 and 6 PM, like clockwork. Migraines are […]

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No Matter What

(an awakening)

“The spaceship has landed,” was the only way he could describe it…

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The Consequence of Silence

The unintended result of this internal evolution is that I have become an entirely different person than I was previously…

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Hey, Turn on the Fire, Will Ya?

The fireplace show is on TV and Loreena McKennitt is playing. There’s a peace in our home. More notably, a peace and happiness in our hearts. It’s been so long since my mother has sat at a kitchen table making Yuletide crafts, I think the last time may have been over 30 years ago. There […]

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friday vibes

[a poem]

nothing means what it used to. friday. laundry day. december. not since we had to stay at home and walk around the block and take in vistas of the trees obscuring the power lines on the far end of the parking lot. there’s a sense all is stale. there’s a stillness like death (or maybe […]

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"The Hotel Gym" [a scene]

after America's Sweethearts (2001), screenplay by Billy Crystal and Peter Tolan

“Let me tell you something,” said Lee. “The last time I saw you like this, you were digging for gold at the bottom of a stack of pancakes. It was like the Iowa State Fair. I thought the waitress was about to bring out a stick of fried butter and a corndog.”

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Where No Opinion Has Gone Before

Speaking your mind when you could suffer blowback and criticism is not only brave in an altruistic sense, it’s incredibly self-empowering…

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The Path of Radical Responsibility

my path to fogiveness

I think we never really “get over” our trauma. We transform into a new person and leave the trauma behind.

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Keeping My Promise

...and refusing to abandon myself.

If I refuse to abandon myself, I’ll never be alone.

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Visits from the Dark and Evil Queen

Bore her to death.

It’s not about fighting your demons. It’s about being as boring as possible…

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What's in a Dreamer?

Steelmanning the Curmudgeon, Defending the Fool

We delight in approximating magic for the sparkling eyes of children on holidays and birthdays. And maybe a little portion of that is for us. To get a hit of what we’d lost.

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It's Called Adaptation

"...Water can drip and it can crash. Become like water my friend." -Bruce Lee

I finally figured out that if I can get excited about the fact that I’m about to adapt into the direction of my dreams, I just know I’ll be unstoppable…

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Blind to Shiny Objects

Well, Well, Well...If it isn't the Consequences of My Own Actions

Totally ironic that this time last year, I was also attempting to overcome a cold carried to me by my family and fighting the urge to totally re-organize my life with some shiny, newfangled org system. Last year, I think it was bullet journalling (which I was enamored with because Moleskine Leuchtturm 1917 Notebooks and […]

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This Is All Temporary

Living with an Artist in the Days of Plague and Uncertainty

Well, that’s what we’re saying right now, but we both know that no one knows how long temporary is.

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NaNoWriMo 2020 Digest: Fictional Anthropology

[aka, "Welcome to My TED Talk"]

Huge ideas have only made my projects unfinishable, defeating the purpose of being a writer in the first place…

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