I am writing for time, clarity, the lucidity of parsed
moments. I am writing to leave a small fossil that
says I lived pressed into the medium that killed me.
I remember seeing a golden tree out a third-floor window of a college building and not being able to move, turned to gold myself by its arresting beauty. Yes, I wrote a poem about it, and it was in the college literary magazine, also solidifying for me the connection between poetry & beauty.Read More
Robert E. Wood – Thora And The Philosophers: The Early Years Thora and Aristotle No...Read More