-
This is 40
Big day, folks. Four decades on this planet! That’s me. Forty. Thank God I got most of my identity crisis shit done in my late thirties! I am delighted now. I’m the youngest of all of my friends in their forties. (Sorry, guys.) I’m the wise elder of Those Who Have Not Yet Turned Forty.…
-
Catching Up
The longer one puts off a task, the bigger it becomes. Especially with writing. How can I tell you what’s transpired in the last five months? Of course, I’ve thought about writing. Late at night, when I don’t feel right, I craft paragraphs in my head. The language in my head-writing, and here on this…
-
The Dinosaur Bone (what you think you’re no good at)
I clearly remember the moment I decided I couldn’t draw. I was eight. Staring at a massive dinosaur skeleton in the Natural History Museum in Denver. Was it a Stegosaurus? A Tyrannosaurus? I’m not sure. The view in my memory is of the right side of it. A shape which contained the bone I was to draw.…
-
A Break. It does…
…I’m not going to finish that headline. But I will tell you I’ve recently had three trips away. And I’m diggity-dogged happy to be home. My sis and I visited our mom up in Sebastopol for her 70th bday. We buried ourselves in cedar, and did as we pleased. I got a nice family-full. Then I flew to…
-
Your rose, your thorn, and your bud
My friend Tyler’s buddy asks his kids this question every night: “What are your rose, your thorn, and your bud?” Your rose is the happiest moment of the day. The thorn, the worst part of your day: what’s bothering you or keeping you back. And your bud is what you’re excited about learning or doing next.…
-
the Holiday bawl
I bawled on Christmas Eve day. It was a hearty, completely-losing-it weepfest. It felt pretty good to cry as I fought to finish the handmade cherry pie. As my daughter didn’t take her afternoon nap. Oh yes, woe! I was wallowing in woes. Most of my own making.