She's not from here. Where she's from isn't so far away, but it felt far. It felt far when the scathing heat of a desert sun caramelized her skin, burning at the tender flesh that sizzled beneath the touch of light. It felt far when her legs threatened to collapse like trees in a forest, …
Continue reading The Plight of the Immigrant
My last post was about coming home. And this post won't be much different. Except, I'm not talking about a house, I'm talking about a nation. Some of you have questioned my nationalism. And that's okay, I get it. I understand. I hear you. But you should know that I wear these shit kickers with …
Continue reading America the Beautiful…(damn she’s hot)
I remember going down to Mexico in high school to build houses. I remember the rains, fierce rains that made our work impossible; I remember sleeping nearly on top of the girl beside me, us huddling together for warmth, her snoring keeping me awake and enraged all night, stewing in my sleeping bag. But mostly, …
Continue reading The Collective We…because there is nothing else.
As important as it is to travel, it is just as important to have a home to come back to. We all yearn for those connections and we yearn for that sense of belonging. For that basic foundational concept of humanity that says I am from here. This is home. And so, when I'm gone …
Continue reading A Place to Call Home
I took a brief hiatus from my blogging this week. 2017 has come in with a crashing of symbols and disharmony and, quite frankly, I'm ready to start over fresh. Over the weekend, I got a text from my dad. My brother was in the hospital. And he's fine now and aside from Donald Trump, …
Continue reading Misery Loves Company…as do the rest of us
We're on the last stop of the tour—Sorrel Weed House, which at first I thought, as a native Californian, was going to be a lot more exciting than it was. But the only high you get here is a spiritual one, and the only out of body experience you encounter is the disembodied souls that …
Continue reading “Sure, I’m in…” Ghost Hunting, and Famous Last Words.
"I myself have seen this woman draw the stars from the sky; she diverts the course of a fast-flowing river with her incantations; her voice makes the earth gape, it lures the spirits from the tombs, sends the bones tumbling from the dying pyre. At her behest, the sad clouds scatter; at her behest, snow …
Continue reading Stay Wild, my Witchy Little Moon Child
The party was in full swing. Indentured servants did their best to placate the unruly guests, refilling the carafes of thick, mulled wine, pouring the bourbon that glistened in the crystal glasses like casts of amber in the sunlight. The French Doors were open to the patio, letting in the warm Savannah air that clung …
Continue reading Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked
The Wild Heart of Life 