My men grew up with holes in the knees of their jeans and hair that was combed on Sunday. Graduated to ride dirt bikes while the girls watched. Danced once they had a couple beers in em and showed up for work on time no matter their condition. Union men. …

Who wants to know? it’s like asking air to discuss the effects of the wind mostly because me and my description of myself have a lot of baggage we’re in a co-dependent situation each blaming the other for either saying too much or too little leaving out the good bits…

The dilemma of the multi-hyphenate artist. Why is it that sometimes you can ride the same roller coaster over and over and feel nothing but joy, and other times end up with your face in a brightly bagged trash can, hurling up your cotton candy? Riding the pendulum of perfectionism…

You created him. Now he wants to destroy you. “Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!” Lewis Carroll’s story of Alice in Wonderland has always held a special place in my heart. …

Poetry — I just imagined myself writing a short story. And then I got so inspired I started to cry. And then I opened this page. And then I started to type. I listened to the voice inside. The one who is quiet. Only moving fingers can make her bolder. …

…your house is on fire, and your children are alone. Sounds like a real shit show Lady. You’d better get your ass back to where you came from. As a Canadian living in the United States, this song is the theme song for every conversation I have had with most…

I planned to get up early sit in the sweet spot of sun that hits the nook of my couch at 8AM like I did so many times when the great-isolation began. But I kept the blinds closed, and stayed rolled in my blankets until noon. Hiding from the outsides…