Yesterday someone in one of my writing groups presented a question about creativity and its connection to mental illness. I read through some of the comments and was a little taken aback by the idea that being a brilliant artist while suffering mental illness equates to a certain level of beauty. I’ll say before I… Continue Reading
Coffee Shop–1
Mud-water splashes against my pant legs. In no time they’ll dry, leaving spots of dirt trailing up the material. I despise going anywhere when it rains. Fog beats against storefront windows. The air is humid, melancholy whispers that reduce themselves to leaves as they tap the top of a park bench. It’s nothing special, an… Continue Reading
Cocky-Tales Anthology
As I wrap up the final touches on “Cocky-Tales” anthology, I can’t help but be grateful–not for the situation of #cockygate and the inane need to monopolize words–but for the experience. I am thankful that life challenged me with a project that I never thought I would be a part of. In the end, it… Continue Reading
Nature as a Teacher
Now, after decades spent trying to figure out why aspects of my life have not made sense, do I understand the need for Transcendentalism. I can truly appreciate why Thoreau and Emerson spent their time surrounded by nature and in the most truest sense, were protected by it. The earth doesn’t judge our individuality, doesn’t… Continue Reading
Now Accepting Submissions for Cocky-Tales Anthology
Nah! I haven’t lost my mind–I mean, truly, who can lose what they’ve never had? I never, ever thought I would be publishing an anthology, but I also never, ever thought I would hear of such a thing as an author trying to bully her peers by “owning” words. Is this truly what the… Continue Reading
Dear ‘Just Get Over It’ People, Why Don’t You ‘Just Get Over It’?
This morning I was up at four. I’m always up around three or four in the morning. Needless to say I’m guilty of scrolling through Facebook. One of the aspects I enjoy the most is looking at my “On This Day” section and realizing just how much I have healed and how far I’ve… Continue Reading
Suburban Dream
Suburbia is a nap. Not an early evening nap that fades to night and eases into the next morning, but one of those thirty minute cat naps after which the sleeper jolts awake in a state of confusion and spends the remainder of the slow, technicolor day disoriented like ordering a plate of chicken fingers… Continue Reading
