Today it rained. And I prayed and cried and sweat and twisted from my body all the stagnant pieces of a story I hold precious. It’s a childs story. My child. The story of her making and highlights from each year of her life. It’s a bit comical, now after...
I’m nervous. Just like all the self-help books and workshops told me I’d be. My belly is crawling and my mind is racing, but I have tools this time. I wake up before my daughter. I sit in silence. I reach out to friends. I move my body. I write. I...
My eyes open to a dark morning here in my apartment. The end of night pronounced in unequivocal fervor by the neighborhood gang of roosters, followed with only a touch less passion by my longing for coffee. It is December. That knowing strikes a romantic chord in the chorus of...