I was leaving Boston because I needed texture. Something to hold onto again. Running towards the desire for authentic speech, words flowing up through a throat taught with streamlined and […]
And then hope leaped up into my heart and echoed down the ivory arching curvature of my ribs. Four small letters, like an ink map tethered softly along the bone. […]
It was January and my winter-worn Spirit longed for a reprieve. Bones that had caught the chill of a city’s unrelenting grey concrete winter, asking skin to know the warmth […]
“In short, all good things are wild and free.” ~Henry David Thoreau
And so somewhere in between deciding things weren’t working, wrangling with the format and the template, thinking if those things shifted, how the words would make themselves more audible, move […]
And then sometimes you realize you've been running on a horizontal plane for too long, remind your feet they can move freely as if they were kissing the earth with each step, and remember the heart wants what the heart wants.