By place

Category Archives: Grand Rapids

Artprize 9: A Retrospective

 Before even stepping foot downtown I basically knew what art I would find where and what would be in the Top 20.

The Funny One

Making friends, it turns out, meant finding people I didn’t have to be funny around—those I could trust liked me even when I wasn’t confident or cracking jokes

On Tattoos

During the hour it took to fill in the shapes of Michigan, Huron, Superior, Erie, and Ontario, I learned a lot about tattoos. Apparently, no design is off-limits, so long as you can find an artist willing to draw it.

Figs

Meanwhile, I am childless, jobless, and directionless. I don’t feel that I’ve wasted my time, and I don’t feel dismayed, but I’m also tired of feeling crushed under the weightlessness of potential and gawking at figs like stars I could never align.

What Hath God Wrought

The mystery began in middle school. Up until then, as far as I can tell, I was farting like the rest of them.

In the Wind

Milwaukee will always have my heart, but Grand Rapids tugs at it this morning, hard.

The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing

The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing

by | Jul 23, 2017

It was glorious. We started slow, but accelerated into more and more swings and twirls. The best dances are the ones with strange guys who happened to be very good dancers.

I’ll Make a Man Out of Me

I’ll Make a Man Out of Me

This week, I decided to spend a day allowing society (a.k.a. the internet) to tell me exactly how I should be a man. For one day I would dress, drink, and spend my time how the cyber arbiters of masculinity determined.

I Tried to Read Infinite Jest in Two Months and Failed Miserably

I Tried to Read Infinite Jest in Two Months and Failed Miserably

But that Saturday, while I was still in bed, I got another call from my mom. I knew from her first word the reason she was calling. Very early that morning, my grandfather had died in his sleep. I wept.

A Love Letter to my English Major

A Love Letter to my English Major

I wonder, sometimes, if you feel forgotten. After all, I did not become an English professor, as I once thought I might.