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already not famous
The one-wayness of fame has got me thinking this past week. Now, to be clear, I could all-too-easily frame this in a way that could come across as very sour grapes. I’m not trying to be sour about it, but rather just hold up an observation and say—huh, isn’t that a curious thing that we
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Froze Up
About thirty six hours before I sat down to pen this post the city where I live got hit by a small ice storm. I mean, technically, the weather service called it “freezing rain” but after an hour of that particular meteorological event (whatever one chooses to call it) every outdoor surface had been covered
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Into the Woods and Fog
I’ve been tangled up in a philosophical kinda-sorta feedback loop inside my own head. See, nearly two weeks before sitting down to write this post I ran a half marathon through the local wilderness. Anyone who carefully read that post may recall that I briefly alluded to a conversation I’d had with a local trail
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new old older
young green leaves, rooted intorough hewn stump, anchored uponrich forest soil, draped acrosscragged heavy stone, wedged alongancient sweeping mountains, jutting fromshifting geological faults, slipping aroundrevolving green orb, floating invast mysterious universe – bardo I have reserved some space on this blog each week to be creative, and to post some fiction, poetry, art or prose. Writing