A Thousand Leaves Aflame

I am packed too tightly in my skin these days. Which is an odd thing to say, since I’ve lately been losing weight at a slightly alarming, but medically supervised, rate. Just over 60 pounds in five months, which is the average weight of a nine year old. I am a tiny human less, now. […]

A House of Ashes

I sat, fidgeting, forcing my mouth to remain closed. I sat, close to tears, watching my mother, her one hand on the mouse, the other covering her mouth. Was she as close to crying out as me? The pointer drifted on the screen, sliding slowly down the available options from the drop-down menu. Sliding slowly back […]

the memory bones

There have been many beginnings here. I begin and discard and restart endlessly, searching for the words that best hold my meanings. All I can find are tight-bound sentences, stubborn and refusing to unfurl. Words that wing away before my eyes can alight upon them. And I am left in this amorphous now, and past […]

the body and the blade

there isn’t a beginning here. not because i am stingy with my startings, or ashamed, or coy. i simply can’t give you what i’ve never found. perhaps that’s why it’s taken so many months to come here again. but a story must start somewhere, so i’ll give you a counterfeit launch from this harbor, and […]

the barriers between all of me

it’s time for a confession. i know, yes, i confess here all the time, it seems to be the purpose of this compendium, a sifting of my digital detritus that drifts through the aether to shimmer vaguely on your screen. but this is serious. this is something hidden, something never said before. i’m a hoarder. […]

the lip of a life

i’ve had cave bears on my mind lately. ah. let me go back a bit. it all began with netflix. i’ve a few hundred items in my queue, yes, i am an addict, the worst kind, a junkie aesthete, though a full third of them are tv shows, which means anywhere from 6 to 60 […]

a strange and breathless opening

there is a series of strands, seeming random, anything but, that connects all art. a fine web that weaves the word to the note, the note to the color and the form and the movement. when viewed singly, these threads are insubstantial, snapped and easily stranded without context. floating. unanchored. but in stepping back, in […]