“But when you have to turn into a chrysalis…and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you’ll feel it a little queer, won’t you?” Continue reading “On the Queer Nature of Wonderland”
Tag: writer
Fragments of Fiction, Craft My Exquisite Corpse
Because the world I live in is not the world I dream of. Continue reading “Fragments of Fiction, Craft My Exquisite Corpse”
Christmas Is a Time for Ghosts
And winter wonderland is full of holy terrors. Continue reading “Christmas Is a Time for Ghosts”
A Midwinter Night’s Dream
Floating fragments of winter-spring dreams, guardians of prophecies, frenetic notebook entries—my own cabinet de curiosités, made of paper and ink—strung together to achieve some sphere of meaning. Continue reading “A Midwinter Night’s Dream”
I Cast a Tempest for You, my Love. Did You Feel It?
Another Stream Storm of Consciousness Continue reading “I Cast a Tempest for You, my Love. Did You Feel It?”
Morbid Longings, Killing My Darlings
Pertaining to The Secret History and the Death of Disney Continue reading “Morbid Longings, Killing My Darlings”
GreenBlue Neighborhood
Come, let us peel back the mind in a moment of freedom and fury and see what we can find. Continue reading “GreenBlue Neighborhood”
Song of Ophelia
“We know what we are, but know not what we may be.”
—Ophelia, Hamlet Act IV.5 Continue reading “Song of Ophelia”
stream of self consciousness
I’m sorry. Is this unprofessional? Let me begin. Continue reading “stream of self consciousness”
Private and Intimate Thoughts from the Bedroom Floor
“The last light fades and drifts across the land—the low, long land, the sunny land of spires; the ghosts of evening tune again their lyres and wander singing in a plaintive band down the long corridor of trees; pale fires echo the night from tower top to tower… this midnight my desire will see, shadowed among the embers, furled in flame, the splendor and the sadness of the world.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald Continue reading “Private and Intimate Thoughts from the Bedroom Floor”
a literary labyrinth 