On writing: love affairs and the trouble I’m making.
A Walk in the Park
I awoke today to find There are birds.
The Breakers
Standing on the breakers in the spray it can seem Like the rock is winning
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Goldilocks Syndrome: An Elegy for the One True Chair
It’s just not working. It’s been a good year, we had a good run, when I fit into you, and you fit into me, and we did beautiful things together. Once I could just sit with you for hours, reading, dreaming, and, yes, writing. You used to support me, comfort me, but gone are those honeymoon days. Lately you’re all hard angles to my curves, and I just can’t seem to relax with you. I feel confined, constrained, dare I say, inhibited. I’m sorry, chair, but it’s over. Yes, it felt good for a while, so good, oh, good times…
Aviation
The birds know what they’re about: Aviation The birds know what they’re about: raucous coupling raucous dissent raucous hunger the terrible rapture of first-flight the apocalypse of three-dimensional space I am a poor novitiate: I sit, I watch, but seldom learn with more than my pen. tomorrow, maybe, I’ll open my throat or stretch a cramped wing –by Janna Urschel
Why write?
“Our life is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery, like the idle, curved tunnels of leaf miners on the face of a leaf. We must somehow take a wider view, look at the whole landscape, really see it, and describe what’s going on here. Then we can at least wail the right questions into the swaddling band of darkness, or, if it comes to that, choir the proper praise.” –Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
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Life in the Multiverse 