writer

Me Today Primary category in which blog post is published

Standing in front of the glass my image was reflected back

Emily’s red dress overlaying my jeans and T-shirt, my short neck where her slender one would be.

Me Today Primary category in which blog post is published

My hair was wet and I smelled like chlorine, and I felt great.

It’s funny, the cannabis industry folk here are always talking about “reducing stigma,” but I can often spot my fellow dudes who are also going to the weed store.

Me Today Primary category in which blog post is published

I wrote rejections until lunch.

We had lunch at a very serene Japanese restaurant that makes fresh tofu, which is all I ever want.

Me Today Primary category in which blog post is published

These past months our neighborhood has acquired a cast of hawks.

Distracted by work last week, I let the dog out by himself and then felt a tug of panic.

A writer, textile artist, and filmmaker walked into the kitchen.

There isn’t a punchline, it’s simply what happened.

Sydney in winter is a strange affair.

Everything feels dog-eared, on pause.