Sometimes, the writing can scare me.

There is a moment immediately after the creation of art, art in any medium, where...

Past Imperfect — a nostalgia for a time as flawed as our own but without the awareness that tarnishes the now. The wis...

I find it hard to disengage for the sake of silence. And this is true even though I appreciate the silence once I am the...

As I wake to write once again, I find that all my mind can focus upon is the strike. Creatives and the studios built u...

I have a persistently uncomfortable relationship with social media.

But, usually, I can justify using it because it ha...

I took a day off from journaling yesterday, just one day, it shouldn’t have really been an issue. But, this morning, I f...

Winter just fights to hold on, and does not go gently. Even a mild winter, like this one, with only the rarest of harsh,...

A month ago, I set out to publish a blog post every single day of the month of February. In the beginning, I had no idea...

The news that Facebook and Instagram would be joining Twitter in charging for verification got me thinking about the s...

Three too many cloves of garlic. That’s what it takes to get the apartment to smell of soup. I let it simmer over the lo...

Gazing at the night sky, I try to let go of the shapes that I know. Dippers, and hunters, and heroes — bears, sisters, a...

So much is going on out there. Often, it is completely overwhelming these days. Too much. Too fast. Too intense. I hon...

Cold Readings — you either love them or you hate them.

You have very little insight into the script. You don’t know ho...

An unpleasant churning feeling — that is the feeling I am left with after spending time on social media recently. That f...

Often, I take a quiet hour or so out of my day, and walk a loop up and behind the campus or down to the Connecticut Rive...