The Alchemist (a Poem)
Written and edited in 2020
Written and edited in 2020
My solitude used to be a refuge, and now it seems as though I’m conditioned to consider solitude the very thing from which I need refuge.
Speak what you desire. There is no one coming to give you permission to stop being afraid of being known.
what i hold dear and true
sadness as subjective as a shade of blue
a flash fiction piece (300 words or less) on whether the art can, or should, be separated from the artist.
In this life, we are sentenced to freedom. So do we exercise agency? Or do we resign ourselves to outsourcing our values, judgements, ideas, desires, and rules?
Remember the willow tree, for it may seem dull after watching so many dazzling iterations of it spawn from our human desire to imitate, but its beauty and love remains, waiting for you to come home