Why I Love Obituaries
“In this world, in this body; with this mind and these memories; this identity and personality, I think about the end—when will it be? How will it be?” Continue reading Why I Love Obituaries
Category: Essay
Fertile Soil
This pen feels heavy and this thumb and forefinger are attempting a sit-down protest. To write it is to make real that which wants to remain a dream. When asked, “How are you?” Dad used to reply, “I think I’m OK, and I hope I’m not lying.” I don’t want to lie either, but the ground keeps changing as my heart keeps breaking. Words are clumsy when trying to give names to the liminal space between love and sorrow. Continue reading Fertile Soil
Meditations on Beginnings, a Prose Poem
Lower the body into the mighty plank, hold it there for a few seconds, turn your elbows inwards, let your body gradually sink to the floor, knees first, then the belly, then the arms, elbows pressed against the ribs, forehead against the floor, inhale, lift the chest, resting on your forearms, cobra, 3 breaths; peal the body slowly off the floor . . . Continue reading Meditations on Beginnings, a Prose Poem
Meadow of Hope
I would rather be in the wild nature though, not restricted by manicured Jasmin fences and immaculately cut lawns. Somewhere in a meadow, rich with wildflowers on a fresh morning, when the sun is still gentle with its kisses that are pleasantly warm. I want to walk through the unruly grasses, moist from condensation and tears of joy of many lovers, who have ever felt connected to another: a soulmate, a friend, a moment of creative flow. Continue reading Meadow of Hope
A New Sheet of Paper
A new sheet of paper. You are pristine, unmarked, no stains, no folds, no wrinkles, no lines of any kind. This fresh sheet of drawing paper, a sheet of soft white Stonehenge paper. Full size or trimmed to a desired size or even a small scrap, you are all the same. Perfect sheets of paper. The touch of a new sheet is thrilling . . . Continue reading A New Sheet of Paper