eeo
design • writing • yoga
Category: photography
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For Terence It’s like some evil game nightmare edition of Simon says Why do so many people who look like me comb over the footage, looking for a misstep? The questions begin, inevitable hateful cloaked in willful blindness the cloak victim-blaming always wears: “Yeah but–was he fully complying? Why didn’t he comply exactly?” The wrong…
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A poem for my neighbor’s hibicus Furled for the night, see? They’re rolled up tight, like tissue-paper cigars in the moonlight sleeping in the morning they will spin open I’ll be walking past I’ll be sucked in, again will spin with them, six-and-a-half again ballerina fantasy fairy dresses for princesses named Hibiscus, Rosemallow, Swampmallow. The…
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I believe in hope in change in light in dark times in turning off the news in speaking the truth in spreading beauty into the world in the power of small miracles in starting where you find yourself in breathing in the moments To anyone who struggles (which includes, I think, everyone?)—keep trying, keep moving,…
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Bursting Clouds rip open like my heart bursts – whoosh, closed to wide open Swoosh: a purple umbrella floats past; droplets slip, wiggle mercurial jelly-dots. We swim in the same pool, this heavenly, dirty fishbowl.
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Day and night arrive, depart, endlessly— always right on time: I am forever late, running behind. Breathing in the soft dusk I feel eternity evaporate.
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I melt with the sun butter in a warm blue pan the world spins, molten
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I drift to this place where water turns to vapor where the cold night melts
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I’ve been thinking about this question a lot lately, as I work (very messily, but steadily) toward deepening my writing practice and working past fears that keep me from bursting into full flower. Things that help me are daily morning pages and evening 11-minute fast writes, lots of long walks in any weather, taking photos,…
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Steam On the surface, all so calm; moon rising, breeze unspooling winter after-dinner walk belly full, heart content yet beneath: dreams simmer in wait deep, boiling, unseen, building escaping, lost, to the night.
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I’m pleased as punch to have had two stories published this month, and so am taking this moment to celebrate. As any writers out there know, the rejections outnumber the acceptances by a ratio I’d rather not think about. (Plus, I’m not good at math, anyway). So—check them out some cold winter night (or warm…
eeo 