art
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An ode to walking around The apartment I rent is directly across the street from an elementary school. Most days I’m here, I sit out on the balcony and entertain myself with the clusterf*ck that is end of day pick-up. There are a few rules for picking up your kid. There’s an established order. There
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Looks aren’t everything I was a game to them. One of those little egg-shaped key chains with the creature you care for by beeping its buttons in the right order. You learn to feed it after each playtime to get it to nap. You can’t go too long between baths. After awhile the attention afforded
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Preaching to the choir Recently, I watched a PBS special on the Gilded Age with my nine-year-old. I started the documentary twice before but both attempts were at night, and while I always appreciate the quality content PBS provides, this documentary was one with a mild-mannered narrator and a lot of the same images slowly
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What it is to think about people who aren’t you I’m a people pleaser. That’s the catchy moniker that the mental health machine appointed for the people who care about the happiness and comfort of other people. Personally, I’m of the opinion that caring about other people isn’t all that bad. Just yesterday, I saw
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Jenny Jenkins lives on Octopus Avenue just outside of Topeka, Kansas. Her purple house stands tall at the end of a narrow lane. It’s an old Victorian which is remarkable for Kansas considering all the tornados. Perhaps it was because the house sat at a high point of elevation for Kansas, 40 feet. Jenny inherited
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Lessons of the sunk cost fallacy. One thing that makes my heart happy is turning off my wifi while I write so they can not interfere in my process of telling the truth. I realize this is a tad on the tin foil hat side of thought, and that really, we are all already on
Life with ink 