Day 81 of 365: Nike that shit.
This is a beginning draft by the famous artist, Pablo Picasso. It’s an excellent example of free-flowing line art, and I find it to be profound and mysterious. Although then again, I’m partial. Because Picasso didn’t do it; my brother did. In like 20 seconds. When making an adjustment to my doodle pad/monitor. He was […]Read More
Day 68 of 365: I am angry because…
Aaannndd the darkness continues. Which is fine. I decided to give myself the opportunity to release some of the anger I had maybe been carrying around with me. I opened a word document and wrote about 5,000 words nonstop. I didn’t know I had that much anger in me. I feel like I could write […]Read More
Day 60 of 365: why showing up is important.
For years, when a friend or family member was ill or had gone through surgery or a heartbreak, I gave them space. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? “I’ll let them be messy and do their healing thing and, if they need me, they’ll let me know.” Yea… Come to find out, that’s not really how […]Read More
Day 23 of 365: Not a damn clue.
I don’t know what to write about. Not that it makes any difference, because even when I go into an entry “knowing” what I’m going to write, I end up talking about something totally different. So the initial sense of knowingness is just a doorway, I suppose. And tonight, my doorway is “I don’t know.” […]Read More
Day 18 of 365: the prison and freedom of pain
I am in the midst of a paradigm shift. Currently, as I write this, I’m only partially present. I feel tinglies in the back of my skull and I feel as though my cells are dancing faster than usual. My heart is open and I can feel energy pouring into and out of it. This […]Read More
Day 16 of 365: A doodle about fear + walls + tearing that shit down
We think this is us staying safe, when in reality, this is how we stay small and stuck. I’m not saying I ought to go be mean to people, or litter, or steal, or do some drugs. I’m just saying that, by allowing myself to feel the discomfort of these four main fears and to then survive […]Read More
Day 14 of 365: “Wind” — A poem
Fresh, warm, and cushioned with humidity, It moves at its own pace. Without obvious design, as if an interpretive dance, It twists And turns Into intricate shapes, Like a drawing where pen never leaves page. It does this for no one. Its whirlwind romance with scattered leaves Is not to impress the sun Or moon […]Read More
Day 12 of 365: it’s imperative to be imperfect.
I wrote a book once. I mean, I’ve started writing around twenty books, but I convinced myself to not finish 95% of them. I used to be quite talented at convincing myself not to do something. What if no one buys it? What if people buy it and they don’t like it? What if you read […]Read More
Day 11 of 365: Canoodling with discomfort.
I sat in my backless computer chair, lower back hunched with just enough exhaustion for the day to feel productive. I thought of how I was too tired to write. I then stopped and asked myself if that was true. I guessed it wasn’t, since I frequently (quite literally) write in my sleep. It’s closely […]Read More