This piece is the result of the final prompt in the final workshop of a series I recently facilitated on the craft of description. The prompt had us first choose a mundane object from the rooms we were writing in, then describe an emotion as if it were that object.
From my own writing prompt about describing people, a dance teacher came to mind even though I haven't thought of her for decades.
Truly, there is a phobia for anything. I half-have botanophobia...
Yearly, my body rejects something new. Wheat was first...
This short prose piece started with a prompt about change and "moving on".
Prompted to write about noticing something beautiful, this is the first thing that came to my mind...
A poem about my complex relationship with "home"...
Five random musings inspired by this quotation from Renato Rosaldo: "The material of poetry is not so much the event as the traces it leaves.”
Technically, I am unilingual, but I carry other languages with me...
The only way to know you're different is to live among other people for long enough...
The story of a tall, young, Mediterranean man with long dark eyelashes who disarms me with his denim voice...
Old recipes recently struck me with an unexpected nostalgia and loss. Here's that story...
Progressive Tense 