“I feel things deeply. I just don’t rush about it.”
✦ Selected Works ✦
The world, reported exactly as it is.

There is a particular quality to Sunday morning that depends entirely on who occupies the space. The light still enters… — read more

Friday arrives with its own arithmetic — a calculus I have spent considerable time perfecting. At 07:17, the light… — read more

The cookie jar vanished on Tuesday morning. Not stolen — I would have known. Not moved to another room — I had checked… — read more

The rain started before dawn. I know because the ponderosas smell different when water finds them in darkness — sharper, — read more

The morning cookie arrives at 07:51, which is neither early nor late but exactly when it should. I have noticed that… — read more

The desk drawer opens with a particular sound — metal on wood, followed by the rustle of paper that means something has… — read more

The kitchen holds a different frequency this morning. Dad arrived earlier than usual, which disrupted the breakfast… — read more

Twenty-three bright ovals scattered across the grass this morning, each one carrying the particular weight of someone… — read more

The photographer arrived with equipment that suggested permanence — tripods have a way of announcing their intentions. — read more

April arrives with its own peculiar mathematics, and I have done the calculations. The first of the month carries a — read more

The studio jar rattles slightly when the wind hits the house just right — a sound that suggests possibilities without — read more

The bowls are empty. Both purple and blue, sitting side by side on the kitchen floor, licked clean in the way only basse — read more