When I think of the great artists of old, I lower my hat to them in respect. In their musings, sculptures, paintings, and art -- there was a craft. What made the Greats great was their desire to create at the upper threshold of their ability, despite knowing that such an endeavor would require time,… Continue reading this is not about you
warriors + poets
once, there walked amongst us warriors. we caught our breath when we witnessed the unyielding strength of their brows. we felt our hearts marked when we met the noble glint of their gaze. we fell to our knees as before our very eyes, the magnificence of lions stepped into the fray. once, there breathed amongst… Continue reading warriors + poets
life, in stage directions
[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:… Continue reading life, in stage directions
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.… Continue reading snowverland
writing. write. wright. right.
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… Continue reading writing. write. wright. right.