Living a Big Life (Part I): The Paradox of Depth and Breadth
A rehabilitation of the fig tree metaphor for anyone who’s ever felt paralyzed by possibility, anyone who’s read ‘The Idiot’ three times, and anyone suspicious of the phrase “dream big.”
A rehabilitation of the fig tree metaphor for anyone who’s ever felt paralyzed by possibility, anyone who’s read ‘The Idiot’ three times, and anyone suspicious of the phrase “dream big.”
Speak what you desire. There is no one coming to give you permission to stop being afraid of being known.
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?
Objective: focus my personal and continuing education into an organized topic with deadlines, expectations, and a final capstone.
A poem for my friend on her 25th.
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.
a flash fiction piece (300 words or less) on whether the art can, or should, be separated from the artist.
I find myself craving the simplicity of incoherence, wishing to retreat into a state of brazen, youthful, unapologetic existence, where I am allowed expression without the constraints of language.
Not only is art born from a man’s open heart, Munch says, but is the heart’s blood itself.