There’s a rooster that lives across the arroyo. There’s something a little off about him, though. Before you think I’m being mean, let me explain. It’s 7:24 pm as I write this, and he’s still crowing as heartily as if it were the crack of dawn. He starts crowing at around 5:30 am, like roosters…
Category: Thoughts on Things
slow down
Don’t you sometimes feel like this? When this guy slows down, what does it feel like?Is it relief or simply more stressful that things just aren’t getting done? Maybe, this bug thinks she’ll enjoy life after everything’s been taken care of. After the kids are raised. After that next promotion. After retirement. But how about…
for no good reason
Certain things make me inexplicably sad. A couple examples? A ‘catch-all’ drawer, for instance. We all have them in our houses. (At least I do, and mine is a jungle!) If you have one, it’s probably in the kitchen. Everything’s in there – from the odd pencil to rubber-bands. From Post-Its, with numbers and scribbled…
the colour of summer
What does summer mean to you? Warmth? Hotels? Beaches? Travel? To Guyanese, summer is known as “August holidays”. Regardless of what it’s called, it’s when weeks stretch languidly into each other, the vacation all children dream of. That feeling of what summer embodies starts in childhood and perhaps it never leaves us. It’s the time…
voices
To date, my closest friends came at the most integral points of my life. High school – one friendUniversity – two friends First (real) job – one friend Second job – one friend Five friends. Just so you know, these friends aren’t constant. They blow in for a visit, stay for a while, then they…
looking at glass
I’m sure you’ve heard people say, “I’m terrible at art.” Or, “I can barely draw a straight line.” You may even be one of these people saying this yourself. Like with most other things, drawing comes with practice. I guess it’s just the law of probability. The more you do it the better you’ll become….
a slice of cake
When you hear the word “path”, what image comes to mind? Is it a beaten dirt track with grass on either side, or is it something more metaphorical? If it’s the latter, what idea does it evoke? Something plodding and quotidian? Or something leading to unexpected delights? I’ve always tried to make sense of what…
un. deux.. trois... 