Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an ...
We wanted to sing about the passions of mature women: love and concern for our children, love between trusted and treasured friends, the precariousness of romantic love, the difference between the love you give to the living and the love you give to ...
In the last three months, I’ve started having creepy dreams that give me a glimpse of the future. Or sometimes a portal will open up in the middle of the night and something will try to kill me. There’s no way to know which one I’m gonna get hi...
Horace’s eyes get wide, and he glances between me and the house. “Every time I think I got a grip on this crazy shit going on in your head, I realize I don’t know the half of it, do I?” My eyes tracing the red trim of the house, I shake my he...
Hudson looks at me, waiting for what I was trying to say, but no matter how many times I try, the words won’t come. My chest contracts, and panic knocks my thoughts into disarray faster than a tornado. For years, I was silent by choice. Now, chokin...
But some nights, I must tell you, I go down there after everyone has fallen asleep. I swim back and forth in the echoing blackness. I sing a love song as well as I can, lost for a while in the home of the rain.
again, her singing was her only absolute, the only thing that was completely her. a thousand classes hadn't given her this concrete insight: her voice was her place in the world, the home she leaves in the morning and returns to at night, in which sh...
Katie hated “cutties” and her father’s miserable mutterings of sunken military submarines. She preferred her mother’s tales of her descendants – of legend farrago corn growers singing in shafts of golden sun, or of Rawhunt and Pocahontas ma...
I’m making a list of when it’s acceptable for a pirate to cry. […] So far I’ve got: one - when holding a seagull covered in oil. Two - when singing a shanty that reminds him of orphans. Three - when confronted with the unremitting loneliness ...
I have a bad feeling about this,” she said. “We’ll fake it. And if push comes to shove, we can just sing Goober Peas and waltz around.” “Rebecca might not find that very funny.” “Rebecca is a Northerner. You can tell because there aren�...
Mr. Frimpong is the oldest person from church. That's when I knew why he sings louder than anybody else: it's because he's been waiting the longest for God to answer. He thinks God has forgotten him. I only knew it then. Then I loved him but it was t...
love one another, but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup. give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf sing and dance together and...
[He] went on to say that during all those years he had done nothing at all, that all he had felt had been a need to live, to live actively, violently, noisily, a need to sing, to make music, to roam the woods, to drink a little too much and get invol...
Every nation ends and every empire. Every baby born was going to die, given enough time. If being fated for destruction were enough to take the joy out of things, we’d slaughter children fresh from the womb. But we don’t. We wrap them in warm clo...
Dans un pays où les décideurs s'évertuent à construire une villa à leurs rejetons là où il est question de leur bâtir une nation, il n'est pas rare de rencontrer des talents chevronnés trimer au fond des gargotes afin de joindre les deux bou...
Writing, painting, singing--it cannot stop everything. Cannot halt death in its tracks. But perhaps it can make the pause between death's footsteps sound and look and feel beautiful, can make the space of waiting a place where you can linger without ...
Writing, painting, singing- it cannot stop everything. Cannot halt death in its tracks. But perhaps it can make the pause between death’s footsteps sound and look and feel beautiful, can make the space of waiting a place where you can linger withou...
Pardon me, but my father says that it is a lie that Americans have everything. You have no sheep, no goats, no trees, no oil, no vines, no wine, not even chickens. He asks, 'What kind of life is that?' He says, 'No wonder you don't sing or dance or r...
The letter had been crumpled up and tossed onto the grate. It had burned all around the edges, so the names at the top and bottom had gone up in smoke. But there was enough of the bold black scrawl to reveal that it had indeed been a love letter. And...
Magic Sandra’s seen a leprechaun, Eddie touched a troll, Laurie danced with witches once, Charlie found some goblins gold. Donald heard a mermaid sing, Susy spied an elf, But all the magic I have known I've had to make myself.
You can be so much in a room that the world outside turns to water. You've got the heater blowing out burnt air, but you still don't get warm. Your ankles are singed, but your head's in a bucket of ice. Time drips like a stalactite. The water for the...
