Wheezing and Squealing

“So how many different fetal positions have you discovered?” my friend Jane asks as we set out for our evening walk. She’s smiling, but that’s because the sad ass year when she separated from her husband was over a decade ago. Now she can laugh. The thing about having...

Messy, Gorgeous Process

What if I told you that it took me ten years to understand what I was teaching? It looked like I was teaching people how to write, but what I was actually doing, I realized late in the game, was teaching writers how to peel away the layers of their story and dig for...

One Stinky Breath at a Time

My adorable Chinese medical doctor, Scott Blossom, tells me that the lungs are connected to grief – which explains my love affair with cigarettes this past week. I wasn’t going to tell him I was smoking, and planned on not having a smoke until after our 5pm...

Real Cowboy Poetry

There’s poetry in not getting what you want. Tugging hard at the flower that doesn’t break easily from the bush. It’s not yours. So when my last two texts to the cowboy went unanswered, I realized, shoot, a door was being closed on me hard and I wasn’t ready....

Hungry For The Sound of My Own Music

A couple of weeks ago, David Bowie put out a new record, which is a big deal in the music industry. The man is 66-years-old, a legend, a huge rock star. I’d heard an interview with a member of his band a few days before the record launched, and the interviewer asked,...