I went to sleep in my grandmothers bed. And when I turned off the lights they continued to glow. Looking up in the dark there was a faint trace of light. I began to think of her death and her continued presence in my life. I opened my eyes again…
What do dreams tell us? Last night, I didn’t dream. Or at least, I did not remember the dreams. Scientists say we dream every night, but we just don’t remember it. I’m skeptical. Can we be sure that we perceive the dream at all? Maybe our brain is “dreaming” but…
Planning. Moving. Stuff. Things. I’ve inherited some China from Grandma, although it might as well be called Japan as it was made there. It was her mother’s. It features a floral design, a reminder of the natural world. But unlike real flowers, which bloom and then die, this China has…
After sex, good sex, there is cuddling and touching and a warm feeling of satisfaction. But without someone else, I’m empty and I feel like someone painting a bright field of flowers with dull ink. When I travel, and jet lag tells me it’s time for bed at 2pm, I…
The existentialists were right. When I wake up, for a moment, I am the spark of life. I have no backstory. I am nobody. I have no culture. I am just a being of feeling—these days often tiredness and aches. I hear sounds but they are elemental. They exist as…
Humans plan and anticipate the future. The wave of family meetings, church services, parties, and family reunions is coming. Before a tsunami, the ocean retreats from the shore. The ignorant marvel at the expanse of sand, running towards the ocean. The scared freeze, warily eyeing the beach, calling friends, and…
How do we wash away the sticky anger of others? When I’m yelled at, something clings to the bone and drips through the flesh. Listening to soothing music helps, and maybe exercise. But it remains until time covers it with something else. There’s a layer of dust and years over…
I learned this watching my grandmother after her second stroke. The healthy woman I had dinner with a few weeks before was now on her back, in a hospital bed. And it bobbed like a boat. In the movies there is drama. Even in books, there is drama. Last words….
Waking up late, and my mother and uncle have left. Being sort of ambivalent about cinnamon rolls but making them anyway. Sipping warm coffee and biting into the moist bun as acoustic songs fill the space behind my head that I never see, but is nonetheless there. My sister enters…