An Ode to Gabriel García Márquez

It was simply a change in state, a normal passage from the physical world to an easier, uncomplicated world, where all dimensions had been eliminated. Now she would not have to bear those subterranean insects. Her beauty had, at last, collapsed on her »

Shana Stern’s Artist Journey

I felt isolated, defeated and purposeless. But the creative urge became overwhelming. I tried my hand at painting, but being unable to hold the brush only led to teary bouts of frustration. »

Michael Ryan's Artist Journey

An artist's life is an incredible privilege. To have 24 hours of everyday to yourself, to be inspired, to pay attention, to be fully in life and then to give it back in your art. »

Why am I like this?

Everyone loves to discover patterns about themselves. Yet most do not spend oh so much time waxing and waning about life and psychology. Why? Well... »

Mary Tooley Parker's Artist Journey

I think if you are lucky enough to really feel passionately drawn to do something--whether it's dancing, painting, writing, acting, playing music, or anything—you will find that you just HAVE to do it. There will be ups and downs, excitement and doubts, but you have to go with it and see... »

Birthday Thoughts

Behind the howls was talk about life, About our wild minds. And I realized, this closeness wasn't a nice-to-have, the kind of thing you could go without. It was, is, as vital as oxygen. »

Last lines of the novel...

Our minds work in these crazy, nonsensical ways to try and help us heal, and we just have to step back and let it do it’s thing. Let it run. Let our hands run all over the paper, get all coated in the blue of wet ink... »

Metamorphosis

And that's where things really changed. Oh my goodness, I remember thinking as I wrote my first short story. THIS is me. It was as if everything until that point had been some stepping stone or another to get there. »

Sugar pears, letters, and a sense of self

And it feels like, since finding myself between the pillows of words and the sheets of pages I've found that missing sauce that most—it always seemed—were born with. »