“Who among us has not dreamt, in moments of ambition, of the miracle of a poetic prose, musical without rhythm and rhyme, supple and staccato enough to adapt to the lyrical stirrings of the soul, the undulations of dreams, and sudden leaps of consciousness.” ― Charles Baudelaire To me, most poetry used to invoke the image ofContinue reading “04.19.2018”
It was finally one of those days where I got home early enough from work to lace on my running shoes and inhabit the fresh evening air before the sky turned to dusk and the cold threatened to freeze my toes. I would much rather have been barefoot, but…patience. Summer will come soon enough, IContinue reading “04.07.2018”
Resolutely, Fia spreads a thick dusting of flour over the table and watches as the white cloud settles. Next, Fia takes the soft, warm, plump dough out of the bowl and slaps it heartily on the table. The deep scent of garlic, basil and oregano wafts up to her nose. 4 beady eyes watch FiaContinue reading “03.24.2018”
There is a lot of dew on the grass in the summertime. We walk by it every morning, un-fazed and unimpressed. Its juuuust water. Normal water on normal grass on a normal morning in a normal world with a normal person looking very normally at it all. But wait.
“Love actively,” I remember her telling me, like 5 months ago.
So, Fia’s brainwaves are interestingly random sometimes. One day, she was doing a mundane task like flossing her teeth and a sudden thought popped into mind: What is the opposite of a bucket list? Is there such a thing, and if so, what is it called and what would mine be like?
The wind bites furiously as we step out of the car. Two bubbly, bouncy, blond neighbor girls accompany me, chattering happily. We pass the brick building in the quaint little town that groggily awakes at 9:30 a.m. on a sunny, -4 degree Saturday morning.
I thought I knew the way. My Guide had led me to the forest – I thought the way through the forest would be simple, the path easily found. I discovered the way through the forest was first through a swamp, then through darkness; My feet were wet, my clothes were sodden, and the woods enclosed aroundContinue reading “01.08.2018”
“One Day We’ll Build a House” says my Clara and I.
“Deeper and Deeper must be the dying” Elisabeth said this. Her “dying” was in waiting for her for her Jim (she waited 5 long years). Her “dying” was in his dying (widowhood after only being married for 2 years). Her “dying” was in the death of her second husband after a long battle with cancer. HerContinue reading “01.02.2018”