January 2011
11 posts
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haiku #2
her soul sinks into
the roots and rises like an
ancient chinese elm.
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Personal.
I’d love to be able to say to myself that what I write on this tumblr is only for me but it’s not. I have an audience—albeit a somewhat small audience but an audience nonetheless. It’s a little terrifying for me in all honesty. Hardly anyone reads what I write unless they happen to be a professor, TA, or the occasional friend. As a writer I’m always waiting for...
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Keep listening.
I come from a family of storytellers in the oral tradition. My mother bleeds tales, histories, and words, and as her daughter all I can do is absorb them all in hopes of making them a part of myself. However, somewhere along the formation of my makeup I lost that gift of telling stories. I’ve always been a better listener than speaker—I stumble upon details and my tongue turns into an overbearing...
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I love being able to feel the bite of cold air on my cheeks, feeling my fingertips go a little numb…yes, Winter, I’m alive and I can feel you all over my skin.
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“And Lot’s wife, of course, was told not to look back to where all those people...”
– Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five
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My take on Kanye West's My Beautiful Dark Twisted...
There are few albums that come out through the years that cause you to stop and think, “damn, this is perfect.” Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is one of those albums. Sure, he’s the guy we all love to hate, whose persona has been entangled with a blatant air of arrogance and a shroud of constant controversy, but it’s hard not to admire someone who can take all of that and create a...
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