I. Every year when the sun climbs into the blue horizon and sets over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, a gathering of poets and prophets, writers and artists gather. I have always wanted to go. My browser sits open to their website, and I skim over the details. It claims to be equal parts spiritual retreat, artist workshop, and festival. It is the conference I have most wanted to attend since I started this online journey of sharing my words and baring bits of my soul in this strange world of …
My Writing Life, Silence, and the Burden of Nouns
I move at a pace much too slow to be called successful. Or maybe even ambitious. I guess I look around and wonder what all that means anyhow. It’s no secret I hold no deep love for blogging as a medium other than the community that has become an anchor for me, tethering me to friendships spanning the globe. I’ll admit, that part is tremendous. I have the most amazing readers on the internet. No contest. I’ve carved out a place here in the past 4 years and I’m forever grateful but some days I …
I’ll Sit With You: An Incourage Post
We’re sitting in the glow of neon, the golden arches casting pale yellow and red on the wet asphalt where we’re parked. I’m sipping iced tea even thought it’s cold and we’re clutched by winter's deep spell, flurries scattering around outside haphazardly lacking the stamina to collect themselves on the ground. The windshield wiper swipes at them randomly streaking the window with frost. I’ve pulled my hat down low over my unwashed hair and my arms wrap across me as if my embrace could …
