I was, I thought, cool. Not in the real effortless Paul Newman way we think of cool, obviously, but I believed that if I adorned myself with enough physical trappings of cool, I would absorb it by osmosis. Like the giant bug alien (Edgar) in Men in Black, I was wearing a cool suit. And just like Edgar, I was not pulling it off.
cool girl, bad habits Read More »
A notebook with a green cover like a pool table held accounts of trying and failing to spend less money. It landed on the coals with a sigh, and a hundred pages of angst and sadness went up in flames.
lighting me on fire Read More »
I travel a lot, but not because I love it. I don’t have some great passion for exotic cuisine or penchant for historical sites. I do it mainly because it’s something to do. Moving around a lot as a kid instilled a certain level of wanderlust in me, and working a remote job now means that if I see something cool on Instagram, I can usually figure out a way to go there. So I do. And with each trip I add to my stack of interesting anecdotes, but I won’t list “travel” as a hobby. My hobby is people.
Lushness unfolding Sit still and feel fear’s hot breath. Water fertile soul with saline, nurture tender shoots of self. Let shadows emerge, take shape, begin to dance in the dark. Hang on synchronicity, wring our wounds, let metaphor drip. Trust roots will wrap and hold our guts against the gust. In the misty post-drench dawn,
peeking over topsoil Read More »
Dear enormous family of vacationers, please take up the whole sidewalk. You’re in a national park, this is certainly not the place for situational awareness. And by all means,
from the Grand Canyon Read More »
Outwardly, I feign sophisticated, picky interest, as the possibilities play in my head. Perhaps, I consider, this fresh lamb’s wool sweater will transport me from my current life to that of the adventurous Canadian isle fisherwoman from the catalog. I buy the lie of consumerism and, often, I buy the sweater too.
I’m watching low clouds pour over the sandstone peaks of the Colorado Front Range from the window of my rented cabin. The grey damp lends itself to a productive day of work at my laptop, letting me get lost in deep projects or skim across my email inbox like a hawk across the glassy surface
This is why we don’t get too comfortable, was the reminder from my body as I wiped puke drool from my chin and shuffled back to bed. An hour earlier, I’d been enjoying a delightful breakfast at a busy cafe in a Southern California mountain town. Now, I was violently ill and covered in itchy
from southern california Read More »
Sometimes my words come out like poems, and it makes me nervous because poems feel mystical and unruly.
