Late afternoon sun angles across the meadow, creating a facade of warmth on this chilly early March day. My black rubber chore boots squish in the mud left by the last rain as I make my way down the garden trail. Moments before it is crushed beneath the weight of me, a soft purple glow poking up on the edge of the path catches my eye.
I just lost my mind. I’m about to drop $200 online buying new clothes. You know those cute little boutique clothing ads that pop up on Facebook from time to time when you’re scrolling? They are the scourge of the earth.
Read MoreI am alone, standing on the side of a two-lane blacktop road feeling lost. The white line painted on the asphalt at my feet stretches for miles to the north. I hear a distant hum behind me to the south. A black car approaches and slows down, stopping on the road in front of me. The passenger window is down. A gentle-spirited man with long black hair peppered with gray strands falling well past his shoulders has one hand on the wheel. His eyes are dark and shining bright with life and deep calm wisdom, “Are you coming with me or are you going to just stand there?”
Read MoreMcCarthy, Alaska wrecked my life. I had a map and a compass heading, that felt sure and steady. I put roots down in a sweet mountain valley in Southern Oregon with lush, organic farms and down-to-earth people choosing to live close to the land. Williams, Oregon is the good guy. The one you know you should date because he’s good for you - kind, gentle, wise, responsible. Safe. McCarthy, Alaska is the bad boy. The one you burn for in the middle of the night - risky, spontaneous, erratic, beautiful. Dangerous.
Read MoreKali Kirkendall walks to the stove in her underwear, spins the knob on, and brings a blue flame to life beneath the kettle. The sailboat sways with the rhythm of the ocean as she hangs onto the counter and props the Aero Coffee Press between various heavy items stacked together in the sink so it doesn’t tip over. Steaming hot mug of coffee in hand, she makes her way up the starboard side stern rail and sits down. It’s been one of the most important years of her life. And the most undocumented.
Read MoreThe memory of a live concert experience is especially poignant now, having just survived the worst year of everyone’s life. So many of us long to be in a crowd of people, hear live music, or go to a concert with our friends again. The pandemic decimated business-as-usual and collapsed live music. The moment we break free I will meet you at the amphitheater and we will lay our hearts down at the Altar of Mojo and dance our asses off.
Read MoreA voice in the back of my head was screaming, “No! Don’t do it! You’ll never sleep past dawn again!” The chicken lady sensed my hesitation and lifted the hen towards me in a kind, silent offering…or begging. I wasn’t sure which.
My face was flushed red. My heart was beating erratically. There was a strange weakness and pulsing ache in my thighs and sometimes my arms. And that goddamn invisible fist in the middle of my chest squeezing hard trying to suffocate me.
Read MoreIt’s late. After midnight. I should go to bed so I can function tomorrow. But the guitar case is staring me down from the corner of the room and a restless feeling is pinging around inside my ribcage. I surrender and strum a few chords. No particular idea in mind. No words. No real thoughts. I’ll just play a few minutes then turn in for the night.
Strange clanking sounds were pinging from inside the walls. Dave opened the heavy, red-painted wood door hung with big iron hinges stretched halfway across its breadth, and we stepped into a dimly lit time machine that smelled of soot and men. When my eyes adjusted, I was riveted by what I saw. This must be what it felt like to enter the wardrobe into Narnia.
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