The Joy & Pressure of Nothing

The empty space is an invitation. I’m asked to fill it in with gratitude. I’m solicited to maintain a certain quality within this space. I’m reminded by a million media streams, social feeds, and academic discourses to shape  (and un-shape) thoughts there. Somehow my academic, professional, musical, and introspective lives are running parallel. I’m floating … More The Joy & Pressure of Nothing

The Museum

Glass doors divide and partition untamed unruly poisonous ivies from clean and gentle hands, cooled skin of patriots touring the shores of abstract feminists self-expressionists post-oxygenists … Slotted floors coming up beneath the foot to cry and creak, wooden planks unbuttoning their shirts to breathe and move freely under the pressure of each purposeful, steel … More The Museum