Everyday
February seems to be the unsupportable act,you wait for things to happen; buds to break,or the early death you always fretted, and something mean, bohemian lives in the water, under the skin of… Continue reading
Category Archive: poetry
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IWNHM/IWNHO: Road Songs
With my family, I drove back and forth across the country, almost since birth. I miss that America of then. It was wilder, more uncertain, disconnected, weirder. Each stop on the road had… Continue reading
IWNHM/IWNHO: Befores and Afters
I’m doubling up with the next segment of I Will Not Hurt Myself/I Will Not Hurt Others, followed up by a second post of recent work. This week, I spotlight the section on… Continue reading
IWNHM/IWNHO: Dance
I do not know these words,they exist in my skin,leaking out like I wasborn to sing spite fortime; my feet do not knowtheir direction, butdrive into the dirtwe drive into the dirt,we taking… Continue reading
IWNHM/IWNHO: Bone
I am the land and the land is me. I keep coming back to the old places to remind myself that my pieces, my bones, my blood, my sands and salt and winds… Continue reading
IWNHM/IWNHO: True Love
Sharp-eyed readers will likely recognize elements incorporated here from earlier incarnations. But this time I’ve got it. Really. I won’t fuss with them anymore. I mean it this time. There is this ideal… Continue reading
IWNHM/IWNHO: Womb
I didn’t have children and I’m mostly fine with that. I chose something else. But I like to think that in an alternate universe there is another me who had the babies. The… Continue reading
IWNHM/IWNHO: Freedom/Adulting
I don’t feel like an adult. Maybe now? When I was young, I lusted after the freedom that would come with being an adult. In some ways, it feels like my generation has… Continue reading
The Road is a Second Skin
Continuing on from my last post, here is a large part of the source material for the new series of images… From the time I was a baby, my family and I road… Continue reading
Seven Days of the Black and White
I’ve been thinking lately of the idea that when, in the whole scope of human experience, an artist chooses to train focus on a slice of that experience, it confers an importance, something… Continue reading