Spring Creek
Sitting under trees, thinking of dead people. Continue reading Spring Creek
Category: Magic
Doin’ It to Death
I’d like to say I’ll change. But really, why? What’s the harm? Continue reading Doin’ It to Death
Me Time
I had a thought tonight as I was bittersweetly celebrating my newfound lack of responsibilities: Do we ever lose the feeling of disappointing our parents? Continue reading Me Time
Hoping Against Hope
I can’t understand why it is our nature to fear our own selves and each other any more than I can understand the color of an orchid, the feather of a bird. Continue reading Hoping Against Hope
Here is the House
It’s the last night in this house, Shirley Ann Place, the house with my mother’s name, the tiny house in which we fell apart all the way and broke in a million pieces and slowly put ourselves back together again like a vase that was meant to be broken. We cried and screamed and had sex and the neighbors heard all. Trash being taken out … Continue reading Here is the House
Twelve.
We got married in Aries season. Fitting. Our love has been so into itself for a long long time. It’s been brash and brazen, loud, loyal, strong, and all the things I never thought I would find or that I deserved. When I met you, I never thought anyone had ever made me laugh the way you did. Still do. When I met you, you … Continue reading Twelve.
A Simple Spell to Face Fear
I’m not great at this. I like to not look at what scares me. I tuck it away. When I need help, sometimes spellwork gets me to the place I need to be in order to move forward. You’ll need: What you can do: Write what you are afraid of on the paper. No embellishment. Just whatever it is. Place it face down on the … Continue reading A Simple Spell to Face Fear
I Don’t Know Where to Start
My mom has been gone from this world for almost two months now. I have this nagging sense that I have to write down all her stories – everything she ever told me, everything she taught me. Because I can’t bear for whatever legacy she has to be lost. To write it all will be cathartic, heartbreaking, and nostalgic. It will be painful. I don’t … Continue reading I Don’t Know Where to Start
Precious Things
When I bake, I think of my mother. My mother is not necessarily a baker, but her love and persistence with cooking in general instilled in me at a very young age a deep need to create and connect with people through food. I also think of my father’s mother Emma, who was indeed a prolific baker, but whom I did not get to see … Continue reading Precious Things
hands which whisper/ this is my beloved my
As we near Samhain, I wanted to share something I wrote a while back. While I like watching scary movies and checking out really amazing Halloween decor (who knew San Diego was so into Halloween!), it’s not really a time of year for me where I am super festive. I find myself drawing inward, and really focusing on past relationships – especially with those who … Continue reading hands which whisper/ this is my beloved my
Pocketful of Venom 
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