What’s Coming
Why would I give up my dog?
Cultiver Son Jardin
A little over a week ago I stood in the yard, watching while Taylor planted arugula in the beds. I was not in a good mood.
Words, Words, Words: “Unquiet Thoughts” on Holy Week
The constant babble of words in my head—all clambering for my attention—was not conducive for entering into Holy Week.
Broken Number 8
“OHMYGOD I LOOK LIKE A CARTOON,” I bawled, spitting blood into the sink. “I DON’T WANT YOU TO SEE! I’M SO UGLY!”
Behold the Pine Cone
Fire is a dirty thing. Petulant, wild, prone to fits.
Help Wanted
I’m not asking rhetorically. How do you stare down the barrel of the next five years of your life, ten years of your life, rest of your life and not flinch?
Pro-Life
Next Wednesday is just a Wednesday. No one has written any songs for Wednesday.
The King Is Dead. Now Bury Him.
What would it mean for Game of Thrones if, after expressing such disillusionment with the myth of the rightful ruler, it conjured up exactly that ruler to conclude its story?
“””Art”””
I’ve created some “””art””” using the Processing programming language.
Fireflies and Drafting Days
On paper, on screen, will you see my words?
