706 Wilcox St.

How do I encompass this? How do I capture this? Do I dare chain this moment down to the binds of paper and serif? Am I even a writer if I don't try? I grew up in an art gallery. I have never said it that way before, but I think it is the truest... Continue Reading →

Paradox

Diligence and devotion and apathy bleed into grey, like watered-down black ink seeps into pure white paper; all is grey. And empty and full, and falling apart and coming together. All at once.

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