a letter to the sunflower collector

i have become well-acquainted, unwillingly, with the kind of sadness that makes you catch your breath. so sudden and sharp that it boils over spilling onto cheeks,  onto notebook pages,  onto kitchen counters,  onto sheets where i turn sleeplessly. sometimes there’s a reason for this a problem i can solve but the worst of it [...]

for hannah, the artist

she lives her life like a work of art conversations intricate, intelligent  as the collages and bright canvases  hung on her bedroom wall everywhere she lives becomes a gallery collections of seashells and well-worn books telling the story of a curious, thoughtful soul. she casts wide, bold, beautiful strokes choosing to see  the good in [...]

this is twenty two

twenty two feels like messy cursive, ink to paper, the pen never coming off the page to breathe. breathing would mean stopping for a moment and missing a blurry, beautiful, unremarkable, magical, infuriating day. racing home to scribble down an idea before it slips away. dreams won’t move, can’t move unless you do. curled up crying [...]