[734 words; 2 min 34 sec; heartbreak, neighbors, vulnerability].
And even in the dark, I knew I was cutting it too short.
But the late hour and the music from my headphones were mixing forcefully in my head with the words she had spoken so back and forth, back and forth, I cut the grass, leaving
[865 words; 3 min 9 sec]
And it was a time of great vulnerability. But I didn’t know it then.
Because at age 20, away at college, and in love with the future, I couldn’t see anything but sex and hope and an unwavering commitment to fervor and reverie.
[703 words; 2 min 34 sec]
I’ve never cried so hard as that day in 2007 when James drove his moving truck down the street.
He was moving from Salt Lake to live with his office assistant/girlfriend and her son 2000 miles away, just weeks after we told the girls we were divorcing, a divorce which blindsided me, James and Sarah probably beginning their relationship that summer we
[706 words; 3 min. 31 sec; Janis Joplin, nonconformity, changing the world with your story]
Sometimes I think it happens that Time becomes a weird entity, mashing together events of totally different origins and reconvening them as if they were occurring together, right then, into a singular story, clear in connection, real and provable. Maybe it’s a Tune in,
When my mom turned 40, she had an epic meltdown in the upstairs bathroom of our geodesic dome house on… Read more Messy lives and miracles on my birthday
[521 words, 2 min 36 sec; 9/11]
Fifteen years ago to the day, my ex and I were in Reno. We’d driven the 8 hours with our then-2 year and 10 month old daughters, Julia and Livy, to combine James’ business trip with a visit with my mom, who’d driven from California to meet us. Courtesy of my
[802 words; 4 minutes; society, homelessness, events, Salt Lake City]
8/31/2016: Jesus. At the Smiths [grocery store] at 9th and 9th, a homeless mom pushing a shopping cart filled with their stuff and her dazed-looking teen son with auburn hair and freckles following her riding his bike, bags hanging from the handlebars and backpack on
[1369 words; 6 min 50 sec; family, trauma, boyfriends, hope]
My mom was the impetus behind A.v.A.—my weed-smoking boyfriend–coming to live with us. The year was 1987—I was eighteen–and A.v.A. was an injured bird—motherless, practically fatherless, and a senior in high school—so, when his dad finally went MIA, my
[397 words; 2 minutes; comets, dreams, synchronicity]
[Audio only, of Julia and Amy; Perseid watching, Emigration Canyon, August 13, 2016].
[The following is the comment I left on a friend’s blog; writing it made me cry for I’m trying to finish/revise a blog about an emotionally-intense evening spent with a vulnerable neighbor I barely know, in which the song “Tiny Dancer” played a part, and…
In May, Isle de Jean Charles (Louisiana) residents became the first American climate change “refugees”, resettled in advance of… Read more Climate change deniers: pulling your head out of your butt will also improve the oxygen getting to your brain