I Fell in Love

The first time I fell in love, it was with dance. The notion of movement and music coming together to produce something new and altogether elevated delighted and moved me. The second time I fell in love, it was with … Continue reading

In Solitude

I think solitude may have been my first friend—the first companion I grew comfortable with. Comfortable like that tee shirt or pair of pajama pants you’ve worn so soft and thin it’s almost not there. Comfortable like cozy under the … Continue reading

Types of Insomnia

For me, there are different types of insomnia. There’s the false rush variety, where my mind simply will not stop churning. Ideas (worries and plans mostly) keep flooding my thoughts like a tsunami. My heart races like it’s under pressure … Continue reading

Writing Is Alchemy

As an only child for seven years, writing was one of my first companions—after stuffed animals and Barbie dolls, that is. And unlike my imaginary friends (of which I had many), words were tangible and ostensibly powerful. Even then I loved that words are adaptable to any situation; and there are always more to discover and add to my collection. Finding a fantastic new word is like receiving a gift from a secret admirer—and the gift suits you perfectly—a new possession so apt it feels old.

As an adult, I still enjoy playing with words. They can be as supple as Play-Doh and as solid as Legos. Words are conducive to both the serious and the light. They can make you think, make you angry, make you laugh, or make you cry.

Writing is alchemy. It is mysterious magic—conjuring ideas, characters, landscapes and more out of mere syllables—willing something into existence out of loops and lines and curves. Starting  movements, forging history, testing paradigms with nothing but words.

Writing is the path, the destination, and the journey. It is an act of perpetual exploration and discovery. It is the vehicle—a means of moving to new and unexplored regions of imagination and reality. It is a mirror, a microscope, a rhythm, and a melody. Quite simply: writing is everything.

Spring Is Not Subtle

Spring is not subtle with regards to life. With explosions of blossoms it emphatically reminds. It bursts with delicate colors. It pushes through chilled earth. It rains. It shines. It shivers. It warms. – Spring is not a modest season. … Continue reading

Mastering Fire

The professor held a candle before the class. With a sharp efficiency she lit it, and everyone watched the diminutive flame bend and flicker at the mercy of the room’s currents. Then the professor uttered a few words, lay the … Continue reading