My peeling deck is a trophy.
The damp garage, the unmanicured garden, the semi-clogged drain, my frayed hoodie.
Though ugly and inconvenient,
these things
are proof
that my focus is in the right place.
Winning
Roller Coasters with Evaline
It’s one of our favorite things to do: blow off the day and go to Six Flags.
For me, it’s a way to remember I’m alive, that I’m in control of my destiny, and that I value fun, awakedness, and spontaneity more than the other stuff.
For her… well, I̵… Read more...
My First Poem
I’ve been going through old papers. My mom saved everything, especially the art stuff: Half finished pictures, 3 words on an otherwise blank page, an excessively pasty attempt at a pop-up book…
I found a gem.
Apparently, when I was in second grade I wrote my first poem.… Read more...
Everyday Meaning
I got lucky. Or the opposite.
Whatever… I’ve created a mechanism that draws people to me who are in a dilemma and ready for something new.
And they ask me with the passion and wonder of a child shouting to the ocean,
“What should I do?”
What a gift: to be brou… Read more...
My Daily Meditation (the other one)
I’m a pretty calm dude. I’ve always been this way, but it’s a talent I become more and more proud of as and enter middle age.
Life is hard. Adults have more responsibilities than time, more aspirations than years on a calendar. There’s always a good reason … Read more...
Grandpa At His Best
I had been running around all morning figuring out how to FedEx my suit overnight so I’d have it in time.
When I opened the door to the room, there he was, laying on a single bed, on his side, knees bent, hands flat together, snugly tucked under his cheek. He lay there grinn… Read more...
Umbilical Cord
When Evaline was a kid, I took her down to Jack London Square where the pavement runs straight for a good half mile. We brought her bike, which she barely wanted to touch, hadn’t touched since we got it.
It was early enough that there weren’t many people out, just us a… Read more...
Give ’em a Beard!
A creative writing professor once told me, “If you’re bored with one of your characters, try giving ’em a beard.” It became a thing. When something was off in one of our stories, he’d slam the paper down and yell out “Give ’em a beard!… Read more...
The Inquiry of a 6-year-old
We’d just seen “Annie” in the Presidio, her first real production so she was pretty wired even though it was 10 o’clock at night.
On a whim, I decided to drive her by her mom’s old apartment in lower Pac Heights.
“The white one?”
“Yup.… Read more...
How I Came To Be
In 9th grade, I was generously forced into journaling by my English teacher. In college, I eventually found my way into a short-fiction class, and was sold. I wrote all the time, was working on stories all the time, daydreaming about my characters, while real-world people talked … Read more...