unlearning in an unclassroom One of many boxes created to contain the uncontainable. (the vastness of the universe defiantly sneers at these structures) Brave, beautiful souls baring of self in our chromatic splendor. (we are brighter than these glaring lights that cast false shadows on flat surfaces) Space within space within space.
invited in but always careening towards something (careless footsteps) skin throbbing from the sting (and not wanting to forget) the pulsating rhythm of blood rushing to the point of entry bathed in sunlight, the clenching stops while quiescent clouds gather rich, mellifluous enchantment moments and memories stitched together (everything in his house has a story)…
In improv class, we don’t get to use the words “don’t” or “no” and rarely get to ask questions when we are playing games. This is because it stops the story from moving forward. This has, of course, got me thinking about how I stop my own story. I see how many times I’ve let…
I was looking for this Joy List post from 2005 to remind me of what brings me joy and see if I’m on track. Turns out I am. Much of the things on the list I do frequently, if not every day. This is heartening. I may repost it with some additions but it’s good…
pre·cious /ˈprɛʃəs/ [presh-uhs] –adjective 1. of high price or great value; very valuable or costly: precious metals. 2. highly esteemed for some spiritual, nonmaterial, or moral quality: precious memories. 3. dear; beloved: a precious child. 4. affectedly or excessively delicate, refined, or nice: precious manners. 5. a dearly beloved person; darling. Yes, I am. But…
