Tag Archives: creativity
It took place in an amnesiac haze and fury, numberless nights of lightningspeak and opiate rabble, rocketfuel and anti-freeze, bright slashing ribbons of noise amounting to worry stones indenting the infantpink tender of palms, forecasting God as a vaudeville dunce … Continue reading
The girl in the chair is no longer the girl in the chair, she is neither here nor there, she is always and forget-me-not, soul-spray and glacial uproar causing a siege, she is the spidery patterns of her exploded heart, … Continue reading
Everything we attempt and seal creatively, every last and first word completed, reigns as beautiful failure, a mortal short-hand and forger’s touching testament to the Source, rounding what dreams may come and fade and come again.
I sometimes think of writing as the vocational practice of learning to translate, with accuracy of spirit, the parts of me, unrecognized, unseen, unsigned, that echo from an intimately faraway hollow of interior space.
One thing we cannot recover is time. Perhaps that’s what I have been trying to do. Perhaps that’s what every writer, as a fugitive stalker, as a heartsick orphan, as the fool-hero in their own movie is … Continue reading
A sense of removal raveled in intimacy and ghostly union, a sense of closeness achieved on the periphery where fools dance an impossible jig to fulfill absence.
As soon as your pen makes first contact with the page you have done yourself the great and holy service of destroying that viral boogeyman, Perfection, which has buried far too many acts of expression and faith, a dream-life darkened … Continue reading
In all the children’s mouths, so many screamless nights amounting to timelocked dreams, adopting a feverish hue and deep freeze all at once, the birth of orphans who wander in fugues, haunting their own lives, seeking blessed reunion with who … Continue reading