the stories we tell

i ended up outside. sometimes early january is friendly to outside morning dwellers.  this happens very rarely in michigan.  i still almost don’t believe it. the water was still and the city was so quiet.  i had to take a picture. i haven’t done this so much anymore. take pictures, write down my thoughts. i

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under construction

i’m five days into a kitchen remodel and the flowers are dying outside. the air is cold and i don’t have a stove, but still the light is coming through the windows. a friend drove all the way from england yesterday and i feel like i’m learning how to talk again.  i’m learning how to express

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pop music and the teenage soul

this thing keeps happening as my 13 year old daughter listens to pop music.  it takes me by surprise.  maybe it’s the scientific algorithms or maybe not. mazzy will play another teen anthem about taking life and love by storm and somewhere a few bars in – i have to stop myself from weeping. mind

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october reminds me of summer

the summer was good. yes, i’m still thinking about summer.  i still am processing that it’s over. we looked out the windows this morning and frost was holding fast to the top of the car, to the clover on the yard.  the heat has been kicking on.  abraham pulled out his electric blanket a couple

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children on the shore

“Now I don’t want anything,”  the father of Aylan Kurdi said a day later, after filling out forms at a morgue to claim the bodies of his family. “Even if you give me all the countries in the world, I don’t want them. What was precious is gone.” i went to the water a few

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codependent as the day is long

i have a real problem. i’m nearly addicted to the approval of people. it’s strange.  and it strangles.  it has made me do things that i’m not proud of. i’ll be the fool. i’ll be the fool for you. for me, there is a thin line between love and utter codependence. and it’s funny.  it

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closing papers and the letter of the law

“sign here and initial here.” there are many papers to be signed.  we are buying a house, we are selling a house.  the closer across the table has a wide smile and glasses halfway down her nose. “this paper just says that if there are any typos that you’ll come to the office and resign

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where is god?

i’m opening the clasp between four fingers, just at the tips.  it is delicate work putting on a necklace.  silver on the very edge of nail and then it’s behind my back and in my mind’s eye where this smallest loop is waiting. it comes to me that god is like this. these arguments that

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a strange and bitter crop

how do you write about the strange fruit in america these past months? how do you write about it as a person with skin so light that i always pass in every situation? maybe you don’t write about it. but i don’t know how not to. as each video was shared i understood that this

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