Words are cheap, really. Fickle things.
Hi Dave. You are happiness in averted vision.
I have two kinds of love to offer: a maternal kind, and a feminine kind.
From one erasable town to another, I traveled far enough to be able to speak to you again.
You are my living proof that between romance and reality, romance wins, every single time.
It’s every tiny, inconspicuous, but accumulable thing. No, none of them. But yes, all of them.
What this isolation gave me, in the end, is more of you.
The leavers hold all the power, the advantage; those left behind have to have something to hold on to.
The best book I read this past year had been 'Tiny Beautiful Things'. The best show I had watched 'The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel'. My favorite piece of story was 'The Merchant and the Alchemist’s Gate' by Ted Chiang. Favorite piece of my own had been 'The Whimsical Mr Piano'. I continue to like writing and research, and everything in between. Happy new year!
Somewhere between loss and love is the way we are.
My attempt to describe this messy life and all the unimportance in it. For the twenty-second time.
Mr. Piano is a love letter to my friend.
Stories untold are stories with alternatives.
To love is to blunder but I venture.
Hello world, read me. Better yet, read Mary.
Me being a fish, and you not being one, is how this all started.
"All my writings, are about you."
Living in the mountains is to be everything I am not in San Francisco.
Ants, and art.
This is why I write.
At this age, mother, what were you like?
"Not just because I asked?"
What’s to become of us?
The sweetest piece from Chang. Happy Valentine's.
"A whole winter appeared in his eyes."
Chang's small sentiments, at winter's leaving footsteps.
I once had a Sunday I hated. A Sunday that hated me.
Hello long beach & NIPS 2017.
May toys and dogs live forever.
All that I cannot say to her, I say it here.
Here is to 10 years in the United States.
Sorry to disturb, island.