9am to 9pm; Anacortes to the San Juan Islands and back. The weather is turning and so are the tides. When I’m wary of the waves I remember that the destination is fixed. And that the waves are what color the experience.
I saw red, but behind the treeline. Now I’ve seen the sun rise bright and humble and I’ve seen it set, pulsating and vindictive. All of this on a southbound train (inside lights dimmed), embedded in and running through the northeastern body of this country. While I watch through the windows I imagine that theContinue reading
you feel so happy and sated that you don’t understand how the chills of emotion running down your spine have not yet left through the open window and spilled down the sides of your apartment building onto the street and into the sewer openings that line the boulevard
summer makes writing a sin. outside, alone with your senses, everything is fresh and the pleasure peaks. you sit with a clean view of the open sky (between concrete mountains and wiry steeple tops) and the breeze fills your lungs with the colors of the mandevillas. park sounds massage your brain and dopamine soaks downContinue reading “summer”
Fall 2017 Idolatry and Introspection