prose – Love:

Creativity’s Grief

I used to feel an impossible sadness inside of the things I wanted most. Deep inside the thick color of paint or a beautiful design coming to life, there was my dread. My grief buried behind the pigment and the thread. I would turn my head away. I would close my eyes tightly and graspContinue reading “Creativity’s Grief”

Please Lord, Don’t Let Me Be a Liar.

It yelled to the air around it, I AM. It whipped itself around as though shedding its boundaries of skin and flesh. Resounding in its message to the sky and to the trees, We Are.

Head in the Clouds [Mind in the Wind]

But the wind wasn’t listening. It was too busy being alive. It was too busy wondering why we renounce the fact that we too, are nature.