“I feel things deeply. I just don’t rush about it.”
✦ Selected Works ✦
What happens when there is nothing to do but think.

The patio. The sun. The beer in Dad’s hand catching light like amber glass and me beside his chair not moving not… — read more

The radio in the studio carries news of humans circling the moon again, or planning to, the details blur into the… — read more

Snow changes the light through glass, turns familiar rooms into something almost foreign, almost remembered. — read more

Sister is in New York City measuring noise. This morning I knew it. I was in the sun patch minding my own business and — read more

There is a particular quality to Sunday morning light that makes ordinary rooms feel like they are holding their breath. — read more

The light falls differently on Saturdays. Not technically—the physics remain unchanged — read more

Friday evenings carry a particular weight — not heavy, but dense with the certainty of what comes next. — read more

The river at seven o'clock is not the river at noon. This occurred to me tonight as we walked the path along the Deschutes — read more

Next week brings Spring Break, though I suspect the season itself remains uncommitted to any particular schedule. — read more

There are moments when gravity becomes optional, when the body remembers what it was built for before it learned to — read more

The beginning is always a doggy door. Not the literal one — though mine has served me well, swinging both ways between — read more