i’ve fallen and i can’t get up

In spite of the seemingly never-ending stress that seems to accumulate as the days pass, my Buddhist tendencies manage to alleviate and ignore it. However. Lately I’ve become so entrenched in the hardcore daily grind of worry that Buddha’s been shushed – his exquisite mouth covered with black electrical tape - and instead, mindfulness forgotten,… Continue reading i’ve fallen and i can’t get up

the best story i ever ate

I’ve been re-hashing my old blog posts lately, due to the unwanted appendage you might call writer’s block. I like to call it “work.” Or, “the ebb of the creative subconscious.” Or, “absolute self-delusion.” I just wouldn’t call it late for dinner. Speaking of dinner, I’ve been eating dinner at friends’ houses, lately. Well, one… Continue reading the best story i ever ate

assorted thoughts from the dilettante

 I’ve been thinking lately about the often alarming matter of being much too jumbled and disparate in my interests, and have come to the conclusion that: - Writers love everything. - Writers are the gatekeepers of vast and varied and often useless information. - To succeed as a writer, one should strive to be a… Continue reading assorted thoughts from the dilettante

bad hair = good inspiration

I woke up this morning resembling Albert Einstein, my hair stuck straight up illimitably, in places it has never ventured before. Lately, this seemingly trivial occurrence has been a portent for boundless creativity – a reliable but puzzling association. What could it mean? Was Albert E. full of creative juices whenever he had a bad… Continue reading bad hair = good inspiration

in which self-consciousness is thrown to the wolves, and a culinary metaphor is utilized

I stared blankly at the screen. No amount of will, or begging, could make the words come – at least, not in the way I wanted. I began to peck away at the keyboard slowly, unenthusiastically, hoping that somehow, something relevant and exciting would emerge. Nothing. “Mom?”I peeked out from behind the screen to see… Continue reading in which self-consciousness is thrown to the wolves, and a culinary metaphor is utilized