In the fall of 2002, I was 220 pounds, starting a new career as a performer, freshly dumped by my upwardly mobile girlfriend, and kinda homeless. It was a confusing, disappointing time in which I was either regretful or worried at any given moment.
Oh, and angry. Constantly angry. So
Shut Up a Second – this blog project where I throw together what I’m thinking about into sentences that I hope you’ll read – earned its 50th subscriber this month!
On a Saturday night in March last year, I walked off the stage to finish cleaning up for the night
Picasso says, “Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.”
Well, he doesn’t say it anymore, though. He’s been dead for awhile, so speaking is nothing short of difficult. In fact, I’m completely unsure of the number of times he did say it. Or if
One early June afternoon, I got a call from my big sister. She told me that she had something to tell me, her voice growing shakier with each word. She took a breath and told me that my father was dead.
The memory of that day just drifted in last
In the fall of 2002, I was 220 pounds, starting a new career as a performer, freshly dumped by my upwardly mobile girlfriend, and kinda homeless. It was a confusing, disappointing time in which I was either regretful or worried at any given moment.
Oh, and angry. Constantly angry. So
Shut Up a Second – this blog project where I throw together what I’m thinking about into sentences that I hope you’ll read – earned its 50th subscriber this month!
On a Saturday night in March last year, I walked off the stage to finish cleaning up for the night
Picasso says, “Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.”
Well, he doesn’t say it anymore, though. He’s been dead for awhile, so speaking is nothing short of difficult. In fact, I’m completely unsure of the number of times he did say it. Or if
