Inspiration

There’s this thing: I hate it. I mean I love it. Inspiration. It’s complicated. It favors you a while, you’re inseparable, it tells you these sweet lies you’re desperate to believe and it convinces you this will last forever. You accept this all too readily. It promises you the whole …

On Faith

I’m growing to believe that the matter of faith is much bigger than any religion, or all religion. It seems to me that faith satisfies a fundamental human need to reside within a continuum which provides a context for our everyday existence. It is important, I feel, to have faith, …

The Rain At Home

Dusk is falling out the window: my feet are tired, my body aches. I’m staring, bleary, sighing, slowly, sipping a beer, welcoming the evening air, and I am in New Orleans, and Golden Meadow, and Mexico City, and Amsterdam, and Delhi, and Phnom Penh, and Tokyo, and it is raining, …

Reining in Wanderlust 

I work hard to fill my life with positive information. Both on and off the internet, I make sure that the ideas that cross my path inspire me and serve as constructive stimulation. In this vein, I’ve learned to seek out art, literature, and travel. This works pretty well. When …

CURIOUS No. 65: The Poetry of Violence

Note: Every week, I pick three interesting, not-always-totally-related links from an avalanche of internet content and write an email essay with them. The theme varies from week to week, dictated by the links I find. Last week, the theme was “The Poetry of Violence” and I thought might be worth sharing here. If …

This is Not A Sermon

This is not a sermon: it is my dawning understanding, too long in coming, of an order settling into gaps that until now seemed random. We are formed by everything that ever happens to us, and how we choose to react. These events make subtle imprints upon our brains, pressing …

Moving to Wake Up

I packed everything I own back into my backpack tonight. Not sure what hit me harder: how little time it took, or how completely I’d managed to settle it all into this rented room in a month. It was shown in little ways, in the places for everything, the table …

The Green Parts

Its raining hard in Mexico City in defiance of my old notion that Mexico is a desert. Turns out the maps on the wall in high school I studied in my daydreaming weren’t all that accurate, that they depicted concepts other than climate. In hindsight, I guess I should have …

Stacked Life

The nighttime window, open to the air of the surrounding mountains, cool and fluid, permits the world to enter the bedroom through slats of light and cast itself across the strange shadows of muted hues stacked upon the walls. Apartment building sounds: the vertical echoes of lives along the air …