Redistribution

I thought I could cheat it a little, today's prompt, because Matt and I started watching the movie Sound of Metal about heavy metal drummer, Ruben, who suddenly loses his hearing. And in many early scenes of this movie, we watch action overlaid with silence as the reality of hearing loss settles over Ruben, and …

One Use of Clutter

Perhaps clutter is not just mess but the compilation of good intentions piled up on tables or filling drawers? Things that will make sense later, or used to make sense and we think will again, and so they stay, they stay and molder inside our optimism. I have those--those drawers of aspiration and memory, my …

Small Medicines

In 2020, I read palliatively. Dozens and dozens of inspirational fiction novels by an author first introduced to me when I was a child by my now-many-years-gone grandmother. The scrawlings left for me by my kids on their bedroom chalkboard, or folded-to-miniscule post-its hidden on my pillowcase, or stuck to my bedside lamp. The stickers …

Turns in Its Spaces

I use walks to make claims on things. These claims are silent and hospitable--they take without taking away. They claim in a manner that allows many claimants and no disputes. They claim in the same way that we claim a sunset, or an impressive monument, or any other large or small delight in the landscape …

Resolution

It's a funny thing about me, in that I make use of the starting line of the new year while simultaneously rolling my eyes at its arbitrary power. New things, though, are useful organizing mechanisms--just don't ask me to entirely eschew the part of me that follows whim and instinct. (That Jackie painted an unplanned …

Rather the Ritual

When I sat down to write yesterday's post, I put on a record, Wild Alee by Talos, a fringe indie selection of swirly electronica that I bought in 2019, probably on one of my ritualized walks through Broad Ripple to Indy CD and Vinyl. I put on the record because I was trying to make …

What 2020 Taught Me

Today is the beginning of Writerly and the beginning of daily blogging, and I am shaking off the rust that's settled into my writerly hinges, hoping that the mechanization built in my decades of writing practice will remember its structure and return to fluidity and motion with a little push. The last time I blogged …