the hurricane and the 8 of swords

Today I’m sitting in the emotional aftermath of a hurricane that ripped apart my city, took the lives of some of its citizens, and destroyed roads and homes and possessions. I spent my week staring at the news and out the window, riding panic attack after panic attack as I tried to decide whether my family was safe in our home or if we needed to leave. It quickly became apparent that even if we wanted to leave, we were trapped in: we had nowhere to go. My place of work barely escaped being flooded by about a foot, while friends and acquaintances were fielding 8 feet of water in their homes. My family and I were fortunate, and continue to be blessed beyond belief.

While I was trapped in what felt like, in my panic, my future place of death, I thought about the 8 of swords. Continue reading “the hurricane and the 8 of swords”

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a shout into the void

I’ve kept blogs, journals, sketchbooks, and other sorts of self-documentation for as long as I can remember. In my late teens, I kept a public (though anonymous) profile, posting on forums and a series of blogs that became less anonymous with each iteration. It was my shout into the void, a way of reaching out to something, someone, who might feel a connection with what I had to say. In those early blogs, I sought validation, recognition, a way to not feel totally alone with who I was and how I thought.

Continue reading “a shout into the void”