martial arts rant pt 2

By the way, one of the most profound things said to me in recent years was by this artist we had the chance of meeting a few years back when picking up a painting. He was finishing his degree and going back to school in his forties. He was reflecting on the students in the…

you

you are just a barking dog you are the the inconvenience of waiting in a line you are the crack in my neck when i stretch you, i don’t care about  you i don’t care who is annoyed by the way in which i move you who acts angry  you pierce through none of my…

i’m going to start writing poetry again

So, for the past almost year, I was doing a poem or short story a day every day on this blog. I learned a lot about my creative process during this time and happened on a type of writing I really enjoy. But towards the end of the year, I began to feel overwhelmed with…

break

perhaps it would be better to take a break to be silent for a while and not say anything  but simply sit

a warning

we’re not stupid we don’t buy what you say you can’t force a false narrative

to bring her back

The old man had a sense of direction that some would call uncanny. It was a gift to know where to go in a moment’s notice. Trouble was, it always came up in the moment. Not days or years ahead. No. It was was precisely in a moment. Sometimes they were questions that took years…

standing 

first touch of water is shocking it’s colder than you think  it’s going to be but you’re held and in that warmth throughout your bones  your skin muscles marrow consuming you to the core at the same time as  the surface shiver jolts you awake teeth chattering  and yet you feel warm inside though you…

the twelve paintings

The day after the rain stopped, the girl came upon a kind of cave. It was a makeshift shelter built from the natural deepening of the rock. There were twelve paintings or groupings of markings inside.  It was evening and the light from the moon was the only way she could see inside. Tracing her…

Theater Around The Bay: In Every Ending, A Beginning

Barbara Jwanouskos, thinking, remembering. My first teacher in playwriting – really, the first teacher that taught me how to write and parse out creative thought – was Naomi Iizuka. Among many things that have stuck with me over time is how she would describe beginnings and endings. She asked us to take notice and reflect…

dense night

Sometimes, darkness covered the land and sky with a density so thick, you could almost touch it. There was nothing to be agraid of, but when everything was very still. So quiet, not a word, it was hard not to feel as though something lurked and loomed from the outer edges of the deepness. Staring…