reading. writing. photographing.
I feel a thousand capacities spring up in me. I am arch, gay, languid, melancholy by turns. I am rooted, but I flow. —Virginia Woolf, The Waves Lately, I've been feeling a bit like I'm on summer vacation. Instead of relishing the freedom from stifling walls and bustling hallways, however, the impending summer season feels… Continue reading Scenes from Crescent Beach
backyard happy hour. We all have our little hells, things we must live through without a certain end. I don’t think of hell as some crackling, fiery place but that time we spend crucifying ourselves over the uncontrollable whims of life. Hell is the knife of emotion that takes hold in the heart, winding it’s way through the chest, cracking… Continue reading Little Hells: A Poem
Lauren Michelle Brock 