Solid five new pages to bring to the table at our writing group, maybe more by Wednesday. Pretty damn happy with myself—nose to the grindstone! Trying not to be afraid of my writing and trusting the words. Bleeding… as Hemingway put it.
Life is meaningless only if we allow it to be. Each of us has the power to give...– Tom Head (via myquotelibrary)
Excerpt from recent work
The thing, that one thing that’s crucial to understanding a society, about Atalsia is diagnosis. The Ancients began phasing through medical practice with intensity—dissecting every available organism on cold slabs in moist, dank cells underground, toxins hanging in the air as hell’s continuously seeping sea breeze. The tomes discussing all documented malpractices outlasted...
Rare sights in less than 24 Hours meandering...
Beaver Elk Groundhog Robin (should’ve migrated further north already) Black bear cub My busy big brother That lifting spirit only vast wilderness can give to the soul
Watched HBO’s Hemingway and Gellhorn last night, currently keeping up to date with Game of Thrones and the Borgias, also reading both A Feast for Crows and Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five… …and I wondered why my recent poetry and prose consistently bring up war analogies.