Posts from the “Thoughts” Category

life, in stage directions

Posted on March 16, 2013

[Curtains. Open scene: a courtroom disguised in the drapery of a ballroom. Enter: stage right.] You turn to face the crowd. You put your hand on a book, and instead of swearing an oath of truth and honor, you find yourself slicing your heart with a quill and signing in blood a codex of rules: how to stand, how to talk, deliver the right line with the right laugh at the right pitched back angle of the head. Who to engage, who to disengage, who merits a nod, and who the kissing of the feet. But what the directions don’t tell you is what to do when false compliments begin to taste like dust in your mouth; when hollow smiles stretch thin and begin…

snowverland

Posted on February 9, 2013

I don’t know what it is about snowfall that never fails to catch your heart. That fixes your gaze to the sky like some remnant of older, more primitive magic. It creeps in silently, thickens the air with a cold so bitter that not a single breath is taken without being reminded of winter’s arrival. Inhale, exhale—white fog delivers to the wind what your mouth cannot speak, caresses the ears and whispers secrets of a pinkening twilit sky. You stand at the window and watch the neighbors rush inside with brown grocery bags, locking the doors behind them as if the simple action might keep out the cold. You rest your head against the glass and watch the fog from your breath gather as…

writing. write. wright. right.

Posted on January 19, 2013

Writing, more than any other form of expression, seems to me the ultimate way in which we bare our souls to the world. The process of getting your thoughts on paper, wrestling furiously with a keyboard or fountain pen until you get it just right, attempting to translate the maelstrom of brainwaves buzzing between the folds of your brain into something tangible, all stand as evidence to the battle that is raging constantly in your mind. A battle, whose scar tissue you display to the world, hoping it won’t flinch or turn away, won’t exploit you in your moment of utmost vulnerability; that it might instead, like yourself, find beauty in each painful coil, as twisted as the heart which was wrung for each…