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Tag: postaday
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Every foe gone
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Belong(s)
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Sandman
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Yield
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My highness
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(No) lamentations
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Time-space
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Having/Halving
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Blue Country
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Glitter bonnets
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All bounty
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A family owned business
All she wants for Christmas is a family owned pizzeria. One she can pass down to her children. They’ll work there after school, if they want to. She’ll only employ friends and family. She’ll give employee discounts.
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Flat happy hills
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Kansas forces gather
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an incantation
This one borne out of a fear of death.
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(abecedarian no. 26)
This one is about a boy.
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Part V: My Soul Echoes
We lasted 9 months in the deep burbs before we decided to move back. It took 4 months to sell our house. We lived in a furnished apartment for 3 more months in our old neighborhood in Arlington before we bought the house we live in now. I was ecstatic to be back in the old ‘hood and my old yoga […]
I got pregnant. I wanted to more than anything, but I was shocked by it all the same. I stopped yoga and all physical exercise as soon as I found out and was on bed rest for two months as well. I went back to yoga when my son was 4 weeks old and practiced […]
What I did next was surprising, in retrospect, and wholly self propelled. I had mistaken my soul stretching into my body for and end in itself.
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Part II: I see a flower
I stayed in the forest for 9 years. Indeed, I lost my way. Just when I had given up all hope, I happened upon the path again, as though no time had passed.
I should have been a philoligist, like Nietzsche. I always want to know the etymology of words thinking it will clear everything up, but it never really does.
I was on my way to a party last Saturday evening, which sounds totally fantastical and fake, but there you have it. It is true. I was on my way to a party, alone.
I met Average Yogini in 2001 through mutual friends. I believe I was in attendance at her first or one of her first yoga classes at our mutual and beloved studio Edge Yoga! I feel proud, like I attended a birth of sorts. She was one of my inspirations for starting 1874, so I thought it would be […]
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Dream Reader
I like reading dreams. In a past life, I would be an old crooked lady in the Iron Age, reading dreams, interpreting omens, cracking eggs on black cast iron plates and stirring them around with my gnarly fingernails.
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Please, don’t feed the fears
I recently saw a picture on Facebook with red words on a white sign: “Please Do Not Feed the Fears” (like one you would see at a zoo). I used to feed my fears very well. My fears were fat, well-fed, let me tell you. I used to shop at Whole Foods for them, making sure […]
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On cheese and diaries
Day 2 of Blogging 101: Why not just keep a diary, you say? I kept a diary when I was probably around 8. It looked kinda like this:
Exhibition 1874 