I like to think art welcomes the ugly with wide arms and creaking joints, stretching to fit what others say is too big. It offers a...

I could be a flute, I could. Whisper and hum. Float away on my own lightness. Words trickling from my lips and climbing upwards on high...

I do not work well in the quiet. I do not work well in the stillness. Time is expanding around me, giving me the room to make myself...

I hoped looking out the window might lead me to the profound. That if I simply paid attention, if I pulled the strings tied to my eyes...