a convergence

Time seems to be playing with me. I wrote a blog entry that¬†talked about how I revisited my journals and found something delightful and pleasant as opposed to my usual response, which is one of disgust. It involves seeing a name, a person I interviewed twelve years ago, who has become a really good friend…Read more a convergence

“It’s Tom Waits. I’m sure of it.”

I was watching the first season of Peaky Blinders over the weekend with my Dad and at the end of the fifth episode, a powerful scene was punctuated by a very familiar song that I could actually sing along to and my Dad wasn't aware of it (or didn't remember it) and he asked me,…Read more “It’s Tom Waits. I’m sure of it.”


...and if I stay silent will they take that against me? Will that be received with closed fists, raised eyebrows, and a spiteful heart? It's okay, they say, to be sad. Grieve.   You are allowed this moment of brokenness. But on their way home, when the rains come, they scramble¬†for umbrellas or the shade…Read more silent

Sacred Spaces

These are sacred spaces, and I have not lived here long. I took over from this place's former residents and consecrated it with my own rituals and ceremonies and whispered my secrets on the walls and on the floor and in the dark corners which the sunshine has trouble finding.   It looks like an…Read more Sacred Spaces