In a child’s bedroom, the ceiling is painted navy. Glow in the dark or sparkly stickers are affixed above to give an illusion of sleeping beneath a galaxy of stars; to play pretend at falling asleep under a personal solar system. This child will likely grow up to like science, too. Environment predicts and enables so much. There was one period during my elementary school years in which as many as thirty vintage hats were tacked to my bedroom ceiling. I have no idea how they were acquired, but when one has more than two of anything, outsiders view this as a collection in waiting and start giving you more of this thing. (no one needs this) I would lie there reflecting … Read More
Hiding From Sleep
Time ceases to exist here. It is after-hours and before hours. There was no planning to arrive; one simply shows up. No one has a name, but everyone is recognizable. You sense a familiarity, but that does not afford you the right to strike up conversation. And don’t take a seat with anyone outside of your circle. This place is both seedy and safe. You have entered a shared private place that is still trying to maintain secrecy. The night is over, and you are wide awake. There is only one place to go. Your drive is navigable by a few streetlights. You take a long, mindless avenue towards downtown. Neighborhoods flash on either side until you have reached a dark … Read More
Fire Damage
I have many stories around the themes of fire and smoke. The fears of being burned or catching fire; the costs to items and to lives; the lingering smells of fire damage. Memories can return with the strike of a match. The master bedroom sits at the end of a long, carpeted hallway. The door is always left wide open, except for bedtime. One has direct sight into the room. In front of a window, a standing bust is situated between the foot of the bed and the closets. Draped on this headless mannequin is an off-white, vintage Victorian wedding dress. Close inspection reveals exquisite lace work, intricate layering, and detailed pearl beading around the neck and down the arms. … Read More
Voodoo & Woo-woo
Down in east Dallas, there is a neighborhood colloquially known as ‘little Mexico.’ Old Ford pickup trucks drive down streets that’ll tear up your transmission. The shop windows are bright with Quinceanera dresses, the taco stands are plenty, the barrio music is loud and the cowboy boots are pointy. Tucked behind one of the shopping strips is a fairly dilapidated set of streets. The houses are in shades from pastel to bright teal. Most are gated by short fences. A toddler could take a running jump and escape. I’m very curious what they think they’re keeping out. Little yappy dogs are often kept in. There is a distinct vibe coursing through this neighborhood. It ranges from a welcoming family to keep-the-hell-out. … Read More
Half & Half
It’s certainly been a minute since I’ve written here. While I could whittle off a list of excuses, the main theme of my past month was rebellion. For instance, after almost solely planning a party for my company, I decided at the last minute to not attend. And it felt so free walking right past it and out the door. I genuinely didn’t give a damn; which is where I’m at mentally with my job actually. I’ve been stirring up my own bowl of interests to see what rises to the surface, top priority, next job posting or creative pursuit; both pursued simultaneously most likely. I think I finally folded up the ambition to pursue new music making. My heart … Read More