Sunday Morning Thoughts: 10.7.18

Just got out of work. Poured a glass of whiskey. On some principle. Or habit.

This is the week, though. Anticipation abundant. It happens a different week every year, but in six of those trips around the sun, I’ve always held a reverence for this week. The lead up to my favorite show. A day that will always be of the highest stature. Because of what happens during the day, sure. Love, charity, music, friends, and so on. All the best things.
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Sunday Morning Thoughts: 8.19.18

There is much to write about. That I could write about.


Their faces. Their moments. The way they sway, sound and smile. Laugh and cry and love. How they wander. And how they take root. And grow. And how part of a person can be stuck in time. Frozen. The amber of the moment, if you will. And what it is to see someone you haven’t seen in ages. To hear their heart pour into words. If only just almost.

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