1982 “Evie, we need to do something tonight you may not like, and I hope you’ll say it’s okay.” I thought maybe Paul wanted to try a new restaurant. Maybe go out with his theater office staff and not include…

So much writing through so many years….. I am walking down the street and i see a round opening in the middle of the street…i look down the hole and i see something moving….i see deep below a very very…

Peony touched the scar above her right cheek, and remembered. She had been trusting once. Not stupid, but she believed

A blank piece of paper A swarming of bees in the distance The gentle curve of a wave, seen from a high hotel window A new pen to write you The slip into the blue box The thought of you…

Lost I lived in Los Angeles for most of my life. Our last home there was in Eagle Rock, a not yet gentrified neighborhood near Highland Park, hemmed in by freeways. Other than the private college across the street from…

Isolation….it heals me… in isolation, there are no expectations, only rest, quiet and healing. People exhaust me. I’d rather hangout with dogs! Dogs love you unconditionally, and they want to cuddle all day long….for me, isolation breeds creativity…. Dogs are…

Nina hated going there and only went when she had no choice. Kyle Morris was still the Postmaster, same as he had been during the War and before the War. Before the War he had only been Associate Postmaster but…

What is the origin point of an action? Of a lie? So much felt so twisted, just wrong, that Paola didn’t even know what was the worst offense. She couldn’t even get angry, because she was so deeply flustered. Should…

Like most people, I hate moving, even when it’s to a much better situation and I’m the one whose idea it was. I don’t think it’s the chaos. I’m pretty used to chaos, a too clean house kind of freaks…

RAGS was a Broadway show I was part of, and its immense promise was never kept….i spent months marveling how stupid and petty even supposed “ giants” could be… A journal excerpt or two from back then: NYC 6/10/1986 Tuesday…

Don’t say it to speak would let fall the perfect-ripe fruit so heavy its juices so desiring to explode into the world, whether by bird’s beak, or splattered below, soaking with sweetness the soil that birthed it. Word-ripened, thoughts become…