Whimsical stories, tales of places and heartfelt experiences meant to inspire emotions and wonder.

Walking fields as a kid

I would walk and imagine stories and I was the hero. The brown curly-haired girl who sat next to me in class walked next to me in my dreams, and so my arm was out and my hand clasped the air which was meant to be her hand in mine.

read more...

My childhood streets

But sitting in the cool grass or on hot pavement late in the day of summer, I still sometimes feel him, not in sadness, but in laughing. And he rises up in my memory like that great tree that still rises in that small town where once I played as a child.

read more...

NYC and the energy it gave me

Somewhere near Alphabet City, there on a corner, was a gathering and the sound of unexpected music. An unknown band surrounded by unknown fans. And the joy–as if it was someone's birthday, and you felt maybe it was yours.

read more...

My first love letter

On a wet day in December, home for the Christmas break, I sat on my bed in the company of toys and Little Golden Books and with shaky hands penned a letter to the girl I loved.

read more...

After she was gone

When you are gone, my world will vanish, and I’ll choke upon what I wanted it all to be. My every foundation will be torn up, leaving great chunks of life cast about. Everything will fall away and it will feel as if I’m out on some high bare precipice with no shelter, forgotten and lost and exposed.

read more...

My grandma and our rain puddle

Grandma was there beside me, standing in the water, laughing, inspiring my make-believe. She played with me, she hugged me, and she was my friend. She was my storyteller. She was the softness of my childhood.

read more...

My grandpa’s eulogy

I wonder if the Oil Patch will miss Grandpa – the smell of oil and the black on his hands. The brush-covered pipes where rabbits ran.

read more...