Category: Daily Writing
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Rapunzel
You were gold-spun hair and tiny limbs and big, expressive hazel eyes, and dare I say, gold-spun skin?! You had pixie dust in your bloodstream, and it wasn’t from all the handmade princess dresses in the perfectly curated closet your mother kept for you. It was just you. You were only three in these memories…
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Ernest
I see Ernest slowly make his way around the hospital floor. He is (I’m guessing) on his first lap, and it’s shaky. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s not even five a.m. or because his condition is worsening. When you stay in a hospital, time becomes something strange. For me, a visitor, it’s defined…
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Cenerentola
When I was very, very little, I have a memory of being very, very sick and being held by my mom, who is (by all definitions) the best mom in the entire world. She didn’t panic when you were hurt. She flew into calm, focused action. The type of mom who attacked you with kisses…
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Cherry + Espresso
I pick up Gigion the strip of road with no sidewalkand I unintentionally strut,wearing the short-shorts I slept inand a shirt that the breeze blows through,my chin forward and my shoulders back.I carry her snugin between my ribs and my hip.I can feel her back legsdangling behind meand I suppress a laughthat ends up as…
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a Bee in the Sand 🎧
Collecting moments from a snippet or a slow scene, as if they were rocks I could turn over in my hand and spot their individuality the way the light catches on one or the coarse texture of another. I want to look at them all at once and line them up, just to say: This?…
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Muovi il culo, è Pasqua
I love the way we sort of free falldown the stairs in the morningsfor our walk.But especiallyon holiday mornings.I think about someone my ageawake to watch their childrenexperience the plastic sensationsof their Easter basketwhile they sip a coffee.But for me, it’s different—and this isn’t to say one version isbetter or worse.I love the stillnessthe normally…
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Throw a punch (I)
I shall be fighting a heavy bag in precisely one hour. It only took me nine days to follow through. It will be the first time wrapping my hands and putting on boxing gloves. Not the first time throwing a punch. And definitely not the first time visualizing how good I imagine it feels wearing…
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oh, woe is me 🎵
Can I be vulnerable for a sec? Oh, I’m already vulnerable? Thank you for reading me, whoever you are. Even if you just skim a paragraph, or roll your eyes at a sentence. Thank you for any moment where you exhale and think, “That was good,” or “That was funny,” or if there was even…
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I did it for the sloth 🎧
Why add audios? I could say it’s for accessibility purposes, but I read a comment in a blogging community that basically said they already have software for screen reading. I suppose I just like the act of reading my words. Making them feel less serious or heavy. I think back on my third grade self.…
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Drafts
These are some drafts that I rarely revisit or tweak. They all felt complete. 📝 ONE Six years ago, me and three of my girlfriends did yoga on my deck. We each set up our phones at the top of our mats and pressed play. It was the final class from a thirty-day challenge I…
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Boxing 🎧
Back in December, I signed up for a boxing class but had to cancel due to a lower back situation. I kept wondering when I’d sign up again. The owners were super engaging—not in a pushy way. But January had me tending to core work. I dedicated a lot of time to high planks (favorite),…
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Summer Baby
It’s too cold for late March in Tampa. I want to be hot. Not in a climate change kinda way (zero waste / vegan, please). I want my skin exposed to warmth wrapping around me. I want the privilege of knowing that whatever space I put myself in can be cooled when I feel like…
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Major Signs
Have you ever gone to bed with the dried, sticky sweat still on your body from a workout? No? You’re not disgusting? I don’t recommend it. It’s that sneaky reminder that: depression is back, time to put your gloves on. I woke up with a panicky prognosis from my Oura ring: “Your biometrics show major…
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Maxine 🎧
I haven’t felt much like writing for a bit. I got caught up in an early morning yoga and meditation routine that I thought was serving me, but I don’t know. A friend said to me recently that sometimes you can do the healthiest things and still feel terrible, and that makes feeling terrible all…
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Pass-a-Grille
I love shell landscaping instead of grass. I love sea grapes and their round bright yellow-green leaves. I love man made sand dollars or sea turtles in place of boring stepping stones which might lead one to a house with muted pastel colors and a coordinated mailbox made to also look like a house. I…
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Paper-Cut Hearts
I love February. I’m a sucker for the colors of Valentine’s Day and all the sweetness that comes with the holiday. I don’t know why, I just think it’s cute. I’m still off social media. Okay, sometimes, at work, I’d skim my (finally deactivated) Twitter feed (which is mostly astrology content creators and X-Files fans),…
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Chickadee 🎧
I woke up two days ago thinking about the way my Grandpop Tom sounded when he called us “chickadee.” He was an aeronautical engineer who spent World War II repairing airplanes on base in Morocco until the war was over. But I remember him differently (as a child might) since we lost him to cancer…
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Write a Letter
I’m a big fan of letters— writing them and receiving them. I receive them less often than I write them, but what can you do? When I was in high school, I spent most of my time ignoring the recommended reading and focusing on my own curriculum. I preferred female writers from the Regency, Victorian…
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January Song 🎧
It’s a dreary Sunday morning, fog and a white-gray sky making the warm temperature seem contradictory. Thankfully, there’s an intermittent breeze, light and cool enough to be comfortable as Gigi and I head out for our regular walk. Sometimes we go through the apartments across the street from our home. She loves this because there…