Like Fish in Water

Lately, we’ve been on the same wavelength in slightly eerie, but mostly sweet, ways. Like how he’ll dream of a specific situation that I wake up in the morning drawn to. Or how we’ll both blurt out “thanks for cleaning the apartment” and “thank you for putting your stuff up” at the same time. Or … More Like Fish in Water

Cherub

I’m like a small crying cherub filled with helium always on the verge of flying into the clouds and as if I’m on a string le beau will pull me down and remind me to be here with me now

Waiting

I dreamt I was waiting with my friends in a crowded tower. It reminded me of Sunday school. The feeling of waiting, the fear of your parents maybe not showing up. The cold rain and bleak quiet of waiting beside the principal. The relief when dad finally showed up. Something at work. Machine broke down. … More Waiting

Big Time Feels

We stayed up tonight to watch movies. Big Time Adolescence was beautiful. Sad. I didn’t expect it to be. It echoed like a hodgepodge of books, friends, movies. Perks of Being a Wallflower. Catcher in the Rye. Us. And yet, it was, all at once, uniquely itself. There is something so striking and moving and … More Big Time Feels

Trouble

If I don’t write I might explode So I’m here to say that I’m writing and I haven’t exploded and I made my first happy acrylic pour this afternoon. I’ve been feeling a bit manic about art, this time, canvas paintings, acrylic pours. I’ve tried for years to do abstract art well but failed. I … More Trouble

Night Walks

It’s foggy and cool outside. We wear beanies to keep dry from the drizzle. The lake is calm. A mist hangs above the water, clings like quiet lint. A gaggle of ducks are all ducked into their chests, sleeping, napping, silhouettes in the night. The reflections of the townhome blur by the lake. The lights … More Night Walks

Billow

When I enter the home, there’s a billow of warmth. I associate this with Christmas: winter’s biting contrast. Orange lights. Woody smells. Space heaters scattered across the floor. I think of all the things that made me love the holidays. Not gifts or merchandise. More of the intangibles. Like the bustle of people at the … More Billow

Teenagers

We had memorized every lyrics, every word, every lilt, every scream. We’d yell the lyrics to the song as it blared from our janky T-mobile phones, placed in our Oxford shoes for extra volume. Sweet threatening hum of Gerard Way. Made way for our. Collective. Head. Thrashing. Our stupid raspy whisper-yells slinking down the halls. … More Teenagers

Middle

The cool kids glowed. I remember pulling out of the school parking lot, turning to see the light they cast onto the muddy field. The girls, the boys, so irresistibly cool. Makeup, lemonade, drugs, minds oh-so-so precocious. You smart aleck; you soon-to-be teen mom. How could we have known? Youth gripped us hard. How could you … More Middle

Reverie

Sometimes I find myself lost in paintings: the best pieces, I think, are transportive. You’re no longer in the pristine museum with white walled divides or the living room with its gaudy frames. You’re on some field instead, climbing over oil globs and brush marks and resting in blended shade. You’re on the rainbow trail … More Reverie

Summer Putty

Lately, time’s been this weird amorphous blob. Putty melting and shifting. Sidewalk glob. The sun doesn’t set until eight each night. I’m tricked into thinking I have more time than I do. Then, before I know it, it’s dark and eleven. So I’ve been toying with the putty of time, driving down winding roads with … More Summer Putty