The deluge came out in the general direction of Ridgefield artist Randi Jane Davis this past weekend at City-Wide Open Studios. Her painting (above), called “Three Blind Men” (in private collection) wasn’t the only wonderful piece of work I’d seen that day. But it was the one that reignited my feelings about aloneness. So Ms. Davis…
Category: Angst
Angst:
Stories that get mixed up, that feel out of place, that confuzzle the soul.
An Open Letter to the Generally Sad and Disconsolate
by
You’re not happy. You’re still all-you.Dear You, Hey. Are you feeling a little “over-seen” in these past few weeks? Yeah, I know how you feel. When “public” suicide happens, it’s so substantially private — so completely hidden inside the person who has departed — that it’s hard not to feel an equal sense of horror and…
This is home
by
Two flights, five burgers at the Atlanta TGI Friday’s airport location. A bag of gummy Lifesavers, and of course, the real lifesavers: four headsets, an iPad and two iPhones with digital movies. One hour’s drive, and we are home. By home, I mean. HOME. Not Iowa, the place I grew up. I mean: here. Connecticut.…
3 Ways to Remember Yourself
by
Boston Review has a poetry competition around the corner. I started collecting some of my unpublished pieces to send off for the event and found one or two I did not even remember writing. That because my writing “collection” is stowed “safely” inside my mac (and backed up!), stored as if it were some kind…
On Year 44
by
What All Those Birthday Wishes Mean to MeAs I walked from home to the playground today to pick up the kids, it occurred to me that — perhaps — at some point in one’s life it is considered “untoward” to make such a fuss about one’s birthday. Of course, not that I’ve ever given a…
I Still Want to Talk to You
by
How I See My Selfie – #reverb13 – Day 7
by
I have two absolutely wonderful sweet and generous friends who also happen to be gorgeous. They totally intimidate me. They love to exercise at classes that actually cause one to sweat and feel sore, and because of their dedication they also actually fit into single-digit-sized clothing. So it came as a complete surprise to me…
Being Out There Again – #reverb13 – Day 5
by
The brutal impact of self-censorship Right now, you are experiencing with me my biggest risk of 2013. Back in 2009, after the kids came to live with us, the kids’ attorney advised me to consider cutting back on my online presence. I was shocked. I felt sick. It hadn’t occurred to me that the family…
Suddenly, and Again – #Reverb13 Day One
by
On my tripwire connections of mind, body and soulHow do you feel, on this first day, in your mind? In your body? In your heart? In your soul? First, I feel like saying “Oh my goodness hello and I’m sorry!” If there is anyone out there who has been counting on me to blog…
This is really really true.
by
I haven’t written much here lately. I don’t have a really good reason, other than the THOUGHT of writing a POST has gotten so HUGE-NORMOUS in my mind, that I actually get terrified and just run away. However. Yesterday, my friend Chris posted a link to Hyperbole and a Half’s latest post “Depression Part 2.” This…
Cargo Pants, Packing Lists, and the Pothole of Despair
by
My house is full of crap. Our world is full of crap. Today at the store, the cashier and the customers ahead and behind me and I were all talking about back-to-school sales. Old Navy-this and sales tax free week-that. The kind of mindless conversation we humans love to have. I suppose $5 cargo pants…
What We Did in Summer
by
Our Memories Become Theirs
by
Ordinary Rockstar (Scintilla Redux)
by
Today’s Scintilla prompt… Talk about a time when you were driving and you sang in the car, all alone. Why do you remember this song and that stretch of road? sent me back immediately to a moment in time, October 2010. I was in the middle of two major and intersecting life renovations. Both of…
I Submit to You This Broken Heart
by
I submit to you this broken heart. A year ago, I (unintentionally!) kicked a little snowball down a snowy hill, and I discovered how cold and mean life can be. I am awfully terrible at telling personal stories, and since this story has intertwined a few other hearts of people I love, I am not…