Since childhood I had held my personal night at bay with artificial light of my own design: third helpings of pizza and forgetting myself in five books a day, outrageous lies and sexual exploits, hash laced joints and lines of meth, camel menthols and twelve hour workdays. I had always lost myself in a hundred things so that I never had to face the night inside.
Lately I feel like I’m drowning. My life has been consumed with an avalanche. An avalanche of apricots. Yup, you read that right. Apricots. Not figurative apricots, mind you. Real live, sweet and juicy apricots are everywhere right now. A few hundred of them are spread across my dining room table, another hundred grace the… Continue reading The Harvest is Coming
Overcome your commitment issues and build a lasting marriage. A cord of three strands is not easily broken.
The old gray donkey, Eeyore, stood by himself in a thistly corner of the forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, ‘Why?’ and sometimes he thought, ‘Wherefore?’ and sometimes he thought, ‘Inasmuch as which?’- and sometimes he didn’t quite know what… Continue reading Loving Eeyore
“You’re just like your mother.” I’ve heard that curse thrown at many a woman, and never as a compliment. Just like your mother. The implication? Critical. Nagging. Sharp-tongued. Impossible to please. But the phrase always gave me hope. If all women eventually transform into images of their moms, I was seriously in luck! Nancy Smerdell is one… Continue reading Just Like My Mother…
Electric melon seeping across powder blue skies in wide, reaching swaths of brilliance Back lighting the black lace of newly budded trees Transform my kitchen window into a surreal painting Fronted by a riot of orchids in bloom on the sill I embrace this offering, declaring it an omen, That today will not be another… Continue reading Sunrise Through the Kitchen Window
At 18, living alone in a new city, there was a day I decided to wear only red. The color would be my brand, my hallmark, my calling card. In a strange new place, where I was as of yet anonymous, I could choose to become anyone, anything. I chose red. I visited dozens of… Continue reading A Softer Shade of Red