Everyone is happy on social media. I know I promised to finish my thought on Kundera, and I will! I promise. I’ve gotten sidetracked by a series of conversations I’ve had on social media, however, as one does. I don’t think I’ve actually finished a thought since I joined Twitter. It’s quite embarrassing for someone … Continue reading Meditations on the consensual hallucination.
Levity.
I have no idea where I got this picture but I love it. But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid?The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man’s body. … Continue reading Levity.
This is the way the world ends.
Datta: what have we given?My friend, blood shaking my heartThe awful daring of a moment’s surrenderWhich an age of prudence can never retractBy this, and this only, we have existedWhich is not to be found in our obituariesThe Wasteland, TS Eliot. I have a hard time writing about faith. I grew up Baptist, a pastor’s … Continue reading This is the way the world ends.
This wave.
The Tempest. J.W. Waterhouse / 1916 How do we learn to be still? To allow people the grace to ebb and flow around us without reacting to their emotional whirlpools, their tempests, or their doldrums? Don’t look at me — I have no idea. I am a reactor. I become a tempest in response to … Continue reading This wave.
But I don’t want to.
On the heels of the lighthearted post I wrote last night, I’ve realized that I really must become more serious. More grounded. Less flighty and superficial. I know, I know — it’s a tall order. There really is so little going on in my head. What I’m doing right now is called “procrastination.” I’ve got … Continue reading But I don’t want to.
Tell me again how God is good.
Edward Hopper Time present and time pastAre both perhaps present in time futureAnd time future contained in time past.If all time is eternally presentAll time is unredeemable.What might have been is an abstractionRemaining a perpetual possibilityOnly in a world of speculation.T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton. Those who say, “It is better to have loved and lost … Continue reading Tell me again how God is good.
Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.
Come, take my hand. What’s done cannot be undone.Lady Macbeth. Ophelia, Waterhouse. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” In grade school I wanted to be an actress, until my mom spent several panicked hours lecturing me on the odds against me ever becoming famous, the inability to support oneself on the … Continue reading Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.
Shiny.
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere.William Shakespeare Gretchen Whitmer is quite the polarizing figure, to say the least. Loved — maybe? — by her risk-averse constituents and loathed by the sane ones. She is the queen of her fiefdom, the bureaucratic überKaren. Many are the reasons to dislike … Continue reading Shiny.
I’ll save myself.
You let the sand slip through your fingers. It is warm and dry. It makes an unmistakable rasping sound as it pools at your feet. The sun is warm, the shade beneath the ironwood is cool. The birds are riotous in the midday heat. Something races through the chaparral, rattling the dry brush. This is … Continue reading I’ll save myself.
Je suis Dorian.
You go about the waking world holding it together. Presenting your best face. The workaholic. The stay at home mom. The perfect wife. The perfect Christian. The reformed addict. And then you’re here. Ostensibly anonymous. Words uttered without the threat of scrutiny. Without filter. (Or filtered through the lens of what you believe makes one … Continue reading Je suis Dorian.
