The Pulse of the Deep
To exist without bones is to be a master of surrender. There is a quiet wisdom in the way the tide dictates the shape of a life, a constant negotiation between the soft body and the heavy, pressing dark. We spend so much of our time trying…
The Ember’s Long Memory
We are taught that fire is a consumer, a voracious appetite that leaves nothing but gray dust in its wake. We watch the logs turn to ash and assume the story has reached its period. But there is a secondary life to a flame, a ghost-light that…
Suspended in the Quiet
I spent an hour this morning just watching the dust motes drift through a sliver of sunlight in my hallway. It is strange how we spend so much of our lives rushing, convinced that movement is the same thing as progress. But watching those tiny…