It is one of the sweetest things, the anticipation of summer. Stepping outside to sunny skies bright and blue. A gentle breeze and the spotted shadow of leaves providing breaks to the warm air. The jangle of ice as I sip cool and refreshing lemon water. Little beetles shimmering black and bronze scurrying over freshly …
Stagnation. Am I right to say anything that stagnates completely festers. Life reduces down to maybe nothing at all. I am this way. Possibly, we are this way. And it is in opposition to what I thought, what I understood from my early absorption of this world. But the truth fills me casting thin and …
March 2023 – Opening up a new journal is such a sacred act for me. Especially this one. I chose it thinking of baby coming soon. It is bright, light green and fresh. It feels a shame to write of this old, recurring pain as the first thing. But maybe it is right. Maybe it …
What would I think of me if I were a reader of this collection of writing? I think I would see part of the story, the part shown, and I would assume that story was complete. That the writer is mostly illuminated as the pages reflect. I have believed this many times, entering an interesting …
I was just given the most wonderful dream. It was born of a truth so deep, I am still in awe. A deep truth, the mixing of me and Earth and Sun. Am I being vague and coy with its contents? Delicious, I think I love being coy. I haven’t told anyone I know about …
In this moment, I look in the mirror and smile. Delighted and clear I see myself now. I wish I could explain to you, my reader, the complexities of this moment. Of seeing myself. I have known for a long time my perspective limits me. That has been obvious. But I was so attached to …
I won’t say much now. Maybe I will say more later when more words come, when it is time. I write in a hurry. Scrawling. Rushing. Devolving the deeper I go. I love to write. Why rush? Why haste like it all might get away? My words, the day, myself? I live in haste. A …
The sun is becoming infectious. The type of late summer sun that makes me think of fall. Just a little. Just enough to nudge me outside to loungE and soak and sip and exist. Fall is subtle here down in the deepest south. It doesn’t mean the same thing. Leaves, if they ever fall won’t …
To live in the South, the deep South, what would your mind picture? Me, sitting in my yard filled with a humid and gentle breeze? Late in October, in a long, dangerous drought but somehow everything around me is mostly green? Listening to the breeze and birds, yes. But also the persistent sound of traffic? …