Joy - such a tricky word. For me, anyway. It often sound like too much, too intense. Even the word happiness can sound like too much at times. I usually prefer the word contentment. My mother's middle name was Joy.…
View writingOf course, the natural place to go with the idea of being heated with joy is to sex, and all the greatest adventures, real or fantasized, one has to do with reaching such climactic pleasure, and sweating as a result…
View writingThe white kitten meowed at the open window above her. Like she knew Violet was there and wanted her. Something wanted her. The idea that she'd been clinging too that life was pointless dissolved. It hit Violet that without her…
View writingNot long after I met Kenji, the man who would become my husband, on a Friday night just before the holidays took over everyone's lives, he took me to parties all over south of Market, the funky part of San…
View writingThese dark mornings, the sky bruised and spent, as though it knows what's coming, the crane fly the most delicate marionette at the upper edge of the window. Is it outside or inside? I wonder idly about the state of…
View writingIn my twice-a-week telephone conversations with my demented mother, the most meaningful exchanges are memories of her past. Lately she's been lovingly repeating, "Your father had the most beautiful blue eyes." True. He had strikingly pure blue eyes. And his…
View writingPresent socio-political circumstances are indeed a blunt-edged knife. One gigantic scraping tool, edged in trumpian poison ( and I mean trumpian in all its old and modern definitions). The Orange Menace and all his bewildered and bewildering acolytes nibble away…
View writingAt dawn, I rise and look to the west. If I see the mountain – and if it’s fog season - I know it’s not too thick or not here at all. If it’s not fog season, I know it’s…
View writingThree nights in a row, after my two sisters and I got back from our trip to Buffalo, I had a dream about my parents. I wish I could remember the first two. But I can't forget the last one.…
View writingThe hardest time is early morning, somewhere between four and six am. I wake up and can't stop my mind from spinning out. What if they didn't remove enough of the brain hematoma? What if it's still pressing on the…
View writingThe latest shape of my nights seems to be that i go to sleep over reading a book, at about 10:30 pm, my husband already snoozing next to me, and me already having told "Siri , shut off the lights!"...and…
View writingYou know how at the end of a meal,, a group meal, a family gathering, either at a restaurant or at your home or some else's home, or anywhere else where the group has been lunching or having dinner ,…
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