Saturday, 16 December 2017

twelve.17

the winds rose overnight and compelled us all to feel. limbs of sycamores fell into the streets. the cat brought me a headless robin in a mouth full with feathers. i believe i am chosen to be raw. nothing comes easy anymore. i tell my story by words. life has never been so enticing.

Thursday, 14 December 2017

book review

Other Voices, Other RoomsOther Voices, Other Rooms by Truman Capote
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Capote uses character and language so well in this novel. This book gave me a fresh take on how words can be manipulated and strung together in fresh and innovative ways, and was definitely useful to me both as a writer and reader. I also like that it takes place in the deep south. Capote captures time and place and context, while offering us new lenses, fresh atmospherics. I found this novel magical, it casts a spell which holds on from beginning to end.


View all my reviews

the preface

To my loyal readers. Happy Holidays! Here you can be the first to put eyes on the preface to my upcoming novel, Ame and The Tangy Energetic. I am open to any feedback you may have...


This is not a fantasy. This is a story about friendship. About how to move on when your trust has been decimated by the world around you. About a ragtag alliance of nomads and rebels, who show resilience in the face of marginalization and cultural dissociation. This is a story about recovery from addiction and trauma. About alchemy and the turning of fear into vitality. About being real no matter what, even when you look bad. About caring in a careless world and being loyal to the ones who care about you. This is a story about love, heartbreak and redemption. And faith. This story is an oddity, out of step from mainstream literature and made up with its own rules and rhythm, and it comes from the heart of a wounded healer. Someone of no great significance, who simply survived the streets and lives to tell. This is a story for you.   - Katya Mills

Wednesday, 13 December 2017

wallflower social

may the social sphere be elastic, i wished, and expand without cracking and breaking off, falling like an icicle and killing me where I stand.

in the meanwhile i got my couple hours a day good medicine in writing my book, my blog, and making out with words.

the tongue kissing was the best part and the audience swooned by the character studies i inhabited.

inhibitions were wall flowers to our garden variety virtual open microphone affairs.

Tuesday, 12 December 2017

the best feeling

can be an everyday feeling not an unusual feeling and not one i wake up to necessarily, no, the best feeling arrives in the process of the right action, when i am doing the good and often unpleasant work. and when the hard work proves the best feeling, time after time, we see we can count on it. that's how the hard work becomes just a little easier for us, and living begins to knock kindly.

Monday, 11 December 2017

in kind

Correspondence was not much fun anymore. i was lucky if i got a card in the mail. emails made me nervous because there were so many awaiting reply. the days of receiving long letters penned in script by hand in ink on someone's personal stationery were over. i had a thought. if i took the time to write letters the old way again, bypassing text and email and chat and video, and even bypassing phone, would I get a response in kind? and then might time turn back for us and write our lives the way we once wrote them, when we wrote long missives on personal stationery with silver trim and painted envelopes, hanging sideways over our elbows, quietly playing with each letter,  slowly, conscientiously by scripted hands, young and rolling in ink.

Sunday, 10 December 2017

eternity

a starless sky
moving sea
a diving hawk
you and me

moving
the sea
the starless
sky

turn around
eternity

Saturday, 9 December 2017

read.write.publish

this morning i woke up at dawn and followed the river for a while. the sun came up and the breath disappeared. dogs ran up and down the levee. i showered and dressed and took a spirited step out the door and drove down to a sacred place where i met with some friends to create a reading and writing group. though i have never brought folks together before formally for the purpose, my whole life i have preferred the society of artists and writers, rebels and dreamers. and mostly caring friends. so i am hoping this read.write.publish initiative will go off well for us, and come in with twenty eighteen.

Friday, 8 December 2017

overcast

finite articulated outlined forms are no longer sacred. they may be one thing today and another, tomorrow.

our love is murky we cannot see the bottom. the light takes on form, passing through. my love for you is imperfect. overcast.

it never changes.
we can touch the sky.

Thursday, 7 December 2017

bubble gum holy city

as a symbol Jerusalem represents so much to the world and its religions. one would be outright foolish to try and wrap the archetype around some personal or even interpersonal wet dream. corporate thought processes delude you. pursuit of a bubble gum packaging theme. one could lose faith.

Wednesday, 6 December 2017

freight train

The #metoo movement
a freight train out of Hollywood LA
on a runaway

watch out
she's rolling down rails

touch the iron
feel her coming
for you

Tuesday, 5 December 2017

know things

there are things you know and oh, did i tell you i know some things, too, like how much i miss you and need you around, to fill up my heart with your being profound?
k @ home 2017

how you keep it together

the sun rises every morning. sometimes you have to pull the curtains back from the windows and let the light in, otherwise you may not know. the sun did its part and showed up. you have to do your part now, and arrive on scene. in the light and feeling the world upon your exposed skin, you can be rugged and raw. just exist. you won't have to recite your lines, though they may ask you. the longer i live, the more i find it difficult to rehearse. painful to memorize. how i keep it together (when i keep it together) is by showing up honest and true, hiding nothing. it can be painful getting here, and the magic lies in spontaneity. which also means... we cannot always keep it together. it won't necessarily break their hearts to see us falling apart for a moment. i love to watch them watch me regroup.

Monday, 4 December 2017

any one of us is so much more

The multiverse has shaped me and so I run in colors, and when we meet we bond by the imprint left upon our personalities, the texturing of all the forces that contour us into recognitions. You are so much more than you. I can hardly stand not to love you not to know you. Come with me.

super

Super was the moon and animate the trees; the winter winds arose and bled right through my clothes. I was dodging in and out a moment right before your eyes, yet you were tracking down to daydream. Be very kind and stay alert. This is how we may survive.

Sunday, 3 December 2017

here.now

Life makes its own meaning day after day. Joseph Campbell knew what people are searching for and it's not the meaning of life. I want the embodied feeling of being alive. The vitality. This is a greater cause. Still I am driven to write the books I was chosen to write for the world.  Lately I feel I am closer to a wholeness of energy, a fullness not unlike tonight's super full moon. I think it may be a payoff for all the obligations I've taken on. It's an interesting experiment but I have to write the books. Nothing compares to how you feel when you do what you were born to do.