On Your Fingertips

It is easy to forget there is blood beneath your fingertips, until you cut them open.  Also on the list of things I never think about, because they are so deeply imbedded into… Continue reading

Like I Used To

I just don’t write like I used to. Whoever said you don’t have to be in pain to be a good writer has never really been in pain before. Or I’ve just never… Continue reading

On The Water

It’s been raining a lot here in California and it makes everything seem a little more mysterious to me. And we say it’s because of the rain and the cold and the thin… Continue reading

It Doesn’t Snow Here

It was Joan Didion’s birthday yesterday. She titled an entire collection, We Tell Ourselves Stories In Order To Live. She is always true. There are those stories we tell to others when we meet… Continue reading

Like You’re Leaving

I’m thinking about being somewhere hot and I’m wearing the red skirt you like. There are bells down the street that fall into the same kind of rhythm in which you speak.  … Continue reading

What It Isn’t

“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn’t be.… Continue reading

Constructing Your Scaffolding

We never stop taking cargo on board, never stop adjusting, stop repurposing what we have. We make do and we come out the other side, paper cranes of the person we were before.… Continue reading

On Choosing A Mood

I am learning so much about allowing everything to be what it is, with no fault, no judgment, no expectation. The times when I feel a sense of unease on this journey, when… Continue reading

Not Bound

My missing you is not bound within my body. It trails behind me when I wander crowded streets, brushing itself against strangers. It sits with me while I eat dinner alone with a… Continue reading

On The Familiar And The Strange

It’s a wonder really. How adaptable we are. No matter how foreign something is at first, in days, weeks, it relegates itself to a certain normalcy. I spend a week in one place… Continue reading

You Get Up

Sometimes I’m afraid I love people in the sort of way that sucks all the air out of room. In the mornings I used to pretend to love you less. To wait for… Continue reading

A Week In

Everything has stilled and I feel a kind of normalcy that a week ago seemed as impossible as my being here in the first place. You climb into yourself and learn how to… Continue reading

On Arriving

I’d be lying if I said this was easy. And I’m not being ironic. Don’t let my calm expression above fool you. And, there is some kind of real shame in this whole… Continue reading

Time Capsule

I always have a cache of used film, a dozen rolls rattling around in a mason jar on my desk. When I have extra cash I’ll grab one or two and drop them… Continue reading

On Your Question

Your question reaches across everything and makes me feel like I am sitting on that plane again. I wonder who am I now to tell anyone what to do, or how to feel… Continue reading