My journal of big words and pretty pictures
"She needs more paper and colored pencils." Two men stood behind a large window, observing a young woman in the adjacent room. Bent closely over a pile of white pages covered in detailed drawings, she meticulously added lines to her images. A supply of pencils was scattered haphazardly across the table. A closer look showed … Continue reading A tangerine sky
I have come undone Popped a button, maybe two There are meds for that
The treehouse club was his refuge. It wasn’t really a treehouse, but he could see trees through the attic dormers. He figured that was close enough. It wasn’t really a club either. He was the only member, there were no dues required, no rules to follow. The only prerequisite for inclusion, he testified later, was … Continue reading Lights in the attic
Grey, lackluster skies are thick with regret. Rain and tears both threatening, my emotions and the weather mirroring equal measure of melancholy. The energy I expend withdrawing from the emptiness of my room is Herculean. Cocooned in my isolation, I’m comforted by the predictable trivialities of what my life has become. Living in the world … Continue reading The sun on my face
If I could walk in your shoes for a day, what would the voices say to me, what would the faces look like? Could I survive your reality or would I go mad? *Since his pre-teens, my son has struggled with a myriad of mental health issues. Diagnosed at age 12 with severe panic/anxiety disorder … Continue reading In his shoes
I’m not sure what it is about me, but I often feel that I am some sort of confessional magnet. Maybe it’s my perceived zen-esque attitude, or how I talk about my family, or... who knows what, but people tend to tell me things like I’m an Internet bartender. Deep things, ‘this shit is getting … Continue reading Pocket full of pebbles
Thin spiral notebook 