I've been away for a while, mainly due to writer's block--not having the words to write what I felt--and something more: not having experiences worth writing about, or assuming I have naught to make art from as I go through my sedentary routine of work, eat, read, and sleep. But that's not necessarily true that... Continue Reading →
I Am Not My Past (Memories)
I remember, reminiscing on you and the effect you had on my life. They told me that I was supposed to learn from you and once I got my lessons, I wasn't supposed to revert or glance back. But I did. You were the source of my tears at many a night, and... Continue Reading →
His Eye is On the (Anxious) Sparrow
Last night I started reading J. P. Moreland’s book Finding Quiet. In it, he discusses his personal battles with both depression and anxiety. This morning, the first thought that entered my brain was “be anxious for nothing.” I knew the verse was in Matthew but I could not remember where, so I grabbed my Kindle... Continue Reading →
My Heart Whispers
And my heart whispers, “Bring me back to the One who loved me most." Tiny feet making giant steps forward, backwards dancing, straight toward her Hell. What happened to time? Gone. Whisked away, a gentle wind breeze. So my heart sobs quietly, “Bring me back to the One who never hurt me." Years passed, eons... Continue Reading →
A Writer’s Warning: Writing About Trauma
Dear writers of trauma, You and I both know that writing about trauma can be cathartic in any form, be it fiction or nonfiction, novel or personal essay. We are encouraged, as writers and storytellers and trauma survivors, to “write our truth” so we can heal but there is an underlying occurrence that I don’t... Continue Reading →
Musings of a Wanderer 