and all that came after.
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Saturday, October 8, 2016
Saturday, August 27, 2016
When I take a few days to do something solitary, I'm astounded at the effect.
I planned these 3 days thinking that I would write non-stop, but I actually swam
in a green-blue river for hours, wandered its bank, and sat on a big flat rock--
knee-deep in the water and "noodling"--going from one idea to another,
trying on memories--holding them up to the light.
Friday, August 26, 2016
There are so many things that I love about summer, but perhaps the best thing
is the way that hours seem to open out and expand--a day goes on for more
than 24 hours and evenings last forever. This counterweight to the rush
of time offers a wordless pleausre--like an open hand holding out
just one apricot, speckled and golden, sweet in the mouth.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
it's easy to lose sight of what it might look like over time--over days and nights and years--
but the longer I'm alive the more I cherish this through line of devotion--
a bright gold thread stitched through darkness, holding everything together.