Humans Are Beautiful

Humans are beautiful. I was basically raised by cats; this is an odd thing to think. I was bullied. At school. At home. Yes, there were moments of friendship, and love, and guidance…from people. But cats were consistent. Two consecutive cats, who each died too soon, taught me about trust and understanding that can beContinue reading “Humans Are Beautiful”

The Devil’s Tears

Memorizing a monologue from a play: the nostalgic musings of a discouraged prostitute. I’m thinking about how almost everything in life is a negotiation. And these words from a song are stuck in my head on a loop: He said “I am the devil, boy, come with meAnd we’ll make many storms”He offered me theContinue reading “The Devil’s Tears”

Daily

This morning drinking coffee, reading emails. Jobs I don’t want. Stuff I should buy. Publisher’s Clearing House, telling me to head over to their website and play their games like I did yesterday, for a minute. A couple of minutes. Just enough time to enter the sweepstakes: $7,000 a week for life. And I thought:Continue reading “Daily”

I Just Keep Drawing

I noticed I keep drawing the same face–the same young woman–yesterday working on an illustration. And I wondered who she is. Sometimes I draw friends or lovers. But this is a face I don’t recognize. Drawing is like dreaming, when you get it right, when you’re in the flow…So ‘who is this?’, I wondered. WhenContinue reading “I Just Keep Drawing”

This Old Thing

I’m wearing the sweatshirt I stole from my older brother back when I was young enough to do that kind of thing. He was away at college. It’s black with cut-off sleeves; they’re frayed now. There used to be a stencil on the back–his design–a combination horse’s butt and beer bottle in white paint withContinue reading “This Old Thing”

Barcelona, Part Two

After the day…Standing in a crowd, watching a busker with a full drum kit play along to Smells Like Teen Spirit; up front, a stooped older couple swayed to the beat with linked arms, faint smiles. Admiring them with my boyfriend. Waiting to cross the street behind a young man boldly wearing a band tourContinue reading “Barcelona, Part Two”

Learning to Draw

Washington DC was sweltering and loud. So hot I walked with my head hung low, lifting my eyes to see people’s stomachs, then lowering them again, as though eye contact–seeing their faces–would waste precious energy. I wasn’t interested in the statues of double-chinned white men in elaborate get-ups. What came before–Native Americans living on theContinue reading “Learning to Draw”

The Sky Next Door

Occasionally, between age seven and twelve, I hung out with the lady in the little house next door. I don’t remember her name. There was something Joni Mitchell-like about her: delicate features and big teeth and long blonde hair and arty mystique. Sometimes alone and sometimes with my brother, I’d marvel at how our neighborContinue reading “The Sky Next Door”