Category Archives: personal essays
form follows function
When writing about one’s life, the urge is to move chronologically, plodding from one place to the next, adding layers of experience and wisdom: and then, and then, and then, conveyed by the hope that somehow, if I put it
form follows function
When writing about one’s life, the urge is to move chronologically, plodding from one place to the next, adding layers of experience and wisdom: and then, and then, and then, conveyed by the hope that somehow, if I put it
troy
I’m lurking in the shadow on the north side of the Mill Valley Middle School, as far away as possible from the playing field and paved quad where most kids hang out. I’m sitting on a weedy planter made of
troy
I’m lurking in the shadow on the north side of the Mill Valley Middle School, as far away as possible from the playing field and paved quad where most kids hang out. I’m sitting on a weedy planter made of
paper planes
When I was about 10 years old, I discovered a new state of mind. Or at least it was new to me. My mom, her boyfriend Tim, my brother Johnny and I were on a road trip in the Chevy
paper planes
When I was about 10 years old, I discovered a new state of mind. Or at least it was new to me. My mom, her boyfriend Tim, my brother Johnny and I were on a road trip in the Chevy
my mother/myself
Conversation after my mother read my first novel: Me: So, what did you think? Mom: I don’t like the mother. She made me feel bad. Me: Not all mothers are you, mom. Mom: I hope not. The mothers in your
my mother/myself
Conversation after my mother read my first novel: Me: So, what did you think? Mom: I don’t like the mother. She made me feel bad. Me: Not all mothers are you, mom. Mom: I hope not. The mothers in your
beautiful things
(body talk #12) In this life, if we’re lucky, we get to know some bodies, by which I mean get close enough so that they leave a lasting imprint. I’m not talking about sex, although that may certainly be one
beautiful things
(body talk #12) In this life, if we’re lucky, we get to know some bodies, by which I mean get close enough so that they leave a lasting imprint. I’m not talking about sex, although that may certainly be one
bodies i have known
(body talk #11) Bodies I have known: let’s start with the women. My grandmother Helen was born in 1906, but she was always old. She was old the way people in old photographs look old — the shape of her
bodies i have known
(body talk #11) Bodies I have known: let’s start with the women. My grandmother Helen was born in 1906, but she was always old. She was old the way people in old photographs look old — the shape of her
hands
(body talk #10) Wikipedia says that while the clitoris has “8,000 sensory nerve endings – more than any other part of the human body,” fingertips have approximately 2,500 nerve endings for every 2 square centimeters and that they “contain some
hands
(body talk #10) Wikipedia says that while the clitoris has “8,000 sensory nerve endings – more than any other part of the human body,” fingertips have approximately 2,500 nerve endings for every 2 square centimeters and that they “contain some
body talk 8
Certain memories are buried deep in flesh. Some are nice–dormant seeds waiting to be awakened–while others are more like caged creatures, pacing the floor and gnashing teeth. There’s something to be said about the power of unfettered freedom but there’s
body talk 8
Certain memories are buried deep in flesh. Some are nice–dormant seeds waiting to be awakened–while others are more like caged creatures, pacing the floor and gnashing teeth. There’s something to be said about the power of unfettered freedom but there’s
body talk 7
I stumbled across this quote by Eckhart Tolle the other day: “When you no longer believe everything you think, you become aware and realize that the thinker is not who you are.” I feel both liberated and banished by this
body talk 7
I stumbled across this quote by Eckhart Tolle the other day: “When you no longer believe everything you think, you become aware and realize that the thinker is not who you are.” I feel both liberated and banished by this
Lies My Body Tells Me
Lies My Body Tells Me (a list-in-progress): 1. I have cancer. Why does my back hurt? Must be the tumor on my spine. Why are my hands so papery? Cancer sucking me dry. Why am I so tired? Definitely cancer.
Lies My Body Tells Me
Lies My Body Tells Me (a list-in-progress): 1. I have cancer. Why does my back hurt? Must be the tumor on my spine. Why are my hands so papery? Cancer sucking me dry. Why am I so tired? Definitely cancer.
(body talk 4)
(continued from here first, here, and here.) But usually, I have no idea what my body is saying to me. This fact is alarming by itself but the converse is true, as well: I’m oblivious to what it’s telling about
(body talk 4)
(continued from here first, here, and here.) But usually, I have no idea what my body is saying to me. This fact is alarming by itself but the converse is true, as well: I’m oblivious to what it’s telling about
body talk 3
(continued from here first and here second.) Whenever I write something on the back of my hand I remember Susan because when she saw those ink-stains she’d always point and roll her eyes. “Nice ink,” she’d quip.“You are such a
body talk 3
(continued from here first and here second.) Whenever I write something on the back of my hand I remember Susan because when she saw those ink-stains she’d always point and roll her eyes. “Nice ink,” she’d quip.“You are such a
body talk 2
(this is a continuation of this post) I remember a few occasions when my body made a declaration, when it elucidated something as clearly as if it had spoken in a clear and urgent voice. When I started teaching, I
body talk 2
(this is a continuation of this post) I remember a few occasions when my body made a declaration, when it elucidated something as clearly as if it had spoken in a clear and urgent voice. When I started teaching, I
body talk
I once had a small wart on the fleshy part of my right hand. No one could see it but I could feel it. And I did: whenever I felt nervous I’d press it with my thumb, worrying the wart.
body talk
I once had a small wart on the fleshy part of my right hand. No one could see it but I could feel it. And I did: whenever I felt nervous I’d press it with my thumb, worrying the wart.
fear
Last Friday, when I heard the Sandy Hook news, it sent me into a tailspin. Along with the overwhelming sadness I felt the giant monster Fear sinking its arm down my throat to grip my stomach. I coped by hugging
fear
Last Friday, when I heard the Sandy Hook news, it sent me into a tailspin. Along with the overwhelming sadness I felt the giant monster Fear sinking its arm down my throat to grip my stomach. I coped by hugging
résumé
When I received my bachelor’s degree, I had no idea what to do next so I thought I’d try some temp work. I figured I had to try on a couple places before I knew where I’d like to stay
résumé
When I received my bachelor’s degree, I had no idea what to do next so I thought I’d try some temp work. I figured I had to try on a couple places before I knew where I’d like to stay
