Cooking for others may be an act of creativity or an expression of love, but cooking for yourself is the ultimate act of healing. Just you and your hunger and your abilities and your resources, alone, making do, reminding you it’s going to be ok if you just roll your sleeves up.

Cursing into the dishes, stomach aches, heart attacks, and radical self-help all aside ( Read more... )

I wish October was like it's supposed to be. A cool washcloth, a shallow cave, a gust of dried leaves as you surf the potholes and explore the night, popcorn on a couch. By the time it's here I'm ready for some some nuance and bittersweetness ( Read more... )

On Sunday nights I wonder if you're out there. It would be nice to text and find you in slippers, watching Netflix, petting a cat or a dog, washing dishes before settling into a book, able to write back. Of course I've rarely loved anyone who did that stuff in moderation. There's never time or space, or worse, there's too much of both. There's ( Read more... )

The world wants to see your swagger. Even if they like you as a tawny mouse, they are sitting there waiting to see you burst forward with some peacock colors "in the end." They want a hero. They need a reason to get out of bed, a pep talk, a brave soul to go into the tunnel first, brandishing whatever you've got ( Read more... )

The sidewalk is full of people who are waiting, wanting, sometimes desperate to talk. I need to write down something about this because the cumulative effect is filling my head with tremendous noise. It's not usually talk about the world at large, or ideas, or even the polite world of weather or sports, but about themselves. Maybe it's a topic ( Read more... )

Gore Vidal is such a badass. Watching the United States of Amnesia, there are a hundred quotes of his that freak me out completely, but I especially love this one about JFK ( Read more... )

I keep looking into my little cameras hoping to find great pictures I might have forgotten about. A delightful surprise, which has accrued extra value over the span of a few neglectful weeks. I cross my fingers that it will be filthy or risky or precarious or provocative, and that somehow I didn't recognize it at the time. Maybe it's some ugly ( Read more... )

Holy. People can talk. And talk. And talk.

A little extra cash makes you spendy. Over the years I have trained shopping out of myself, for the most part. but feeling flush recently has given me that impulse to indulge. Of course it's all spoken for already. Every penny I've made in the last 6 weeks has a place to go - some of it I'm stealing, but I know where it mostly needs to go. ( Read more... )