Mornings were our small obsessions.The later sun rose, earlierthan we would wake, orange shadespeaking to usbetween sips of mist and light.We’d put on our cotton robes,to join the air on the balconythe way two points, once together,become a line. Morningswe’d forget to close the window. The sunflew inside, to nest in our bed,upon the shadow... Continue Reading →
about this piece Candy Cane, Buffets Candy ShopAlbuquerque, New Mexico, USA2019Nikon See More in Art...
Wreathed in sparks, low mountainsignite. Arizona.Barefoot over the sand we run. Alicetakes my hand as the skybreaks apart. Our lungs combust,we dance erratic in the rain, our limbssinking into the muddy earth.It was worth it. Every scar,the crashed cars and bar-fights.Lightning. Her laughlouder than a downpour. It was worthsurviving every mistake I’d madeto be drenched... Continue Reading →
1.Setting sun filters through the streets.Drivers distracted by tasks, lists,errands, schedules. Impatient to reacha destination, sluggish to notice anythingbut traffic outside the windshield. Untilthe railroad cross bars lower and divide,red warning signs flash, train whistles echo.One by one, each car forced to pause, stop, wait.Disappointment chugs through as the trainrattles over unbending iron tracks, dragginga... Continue Reading →
about this piece United We Stand2019Ferris, Texas, USAPhotographNikon See More in Art...
The night we decidedto meet, no matter what,on Winter solstice, 2018Artie got so wastedhe couldn’t figure outhow to get out of the stallin Shadows — our local barand tiny Alice,lithe as a gymnasthad to climb over and free him.We carried him hometo a fourth-floor walk-upon Calder Alley.I kept dropping his right legwhich left glyphsIn the... Continue Reading →
It was the first really nice day of spring. You know the kind of day, the one where you want to unzip your jacket for the first time and feel the cold air upon your chest. The sort when you think maybe you won’t need the stocking cap and the gloves and the scarf and... Continue Reading →
Belief creates tradition, and when left to man, becomes superstition. Jefferson Parish, 1940 The hole in the ceiling of the camelback house shone a ray of light through the empty backroom. The house filled with laughter and fresh fried catfish on Butler Street when Beatrice called her family to dinner. They lived, separate and unequal,... Continue Reading →
Still, if I stand back fromthese Hiroshige printsI feel an absence accumulatelike rain cupped in hosta leaves.So I enter, glad-handed, the passbetween Mario and Okabeand greet my fellow travelers —kon’nichiwa, genkidesuka….They smile tired little smiles,relieved that I’m not a banditbut only a rough old foreignertongue-tied by ordinary speech.The green slopes pour like waterfalls.Trees lurch and... Continue Reading →
Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system.“Ashley Maddox” is not available. At the tone, please record your message.When you are finished recording, you may hang up or press 1 for more options.“Heard about your startup in Silicon Valley,they’re so proud they printed an article about youin the Mississippi Press. Now I... Continue Reading →
