August 2015

If you see them coming, leave. That is what I did. I am an exile by choice. More than that: I am a man without meaning. I long ago learned to mistrust those with meaning; that is to say, most everyone I know. They come in armies. They come bearing metaphysical torches. Mostly, they smile. […]

When I was an art major trying to master drawing, my professors would sometimes say that drawing well required “learning to see.” The phrase always sounded too mystical to me. But now, after having done a lot of writing or “drawing in words,” I understand. Writing can only be as powerful as the perceptions of

I recently read an interesting blog post about the need to find meaning in life. My visceral response was: “I have meaning.” But what did I mean exactly? After all, it seems a little arrogant, like I am claiming access to some cosmic secret denied to others. Of course, that was not what I meant

Maggie was 14 when she decided to defeat the dragon. No one else had even come close. All the men had failed. And it was ridiculous because everybody knew the dragon was just an illusion. Even his name, Prism, was a hint. The dragon had been conjured by a curse designed to trap the villagers