Some people beg for demons. They fall easily, writhing with regret. Even in those who summon demons, attempting to bind us with foul symbols of the false god, there is a frisson of fear. Unbelievers are as easily haunted as the devout. Shame is the only requirement. We always have options, if we’re willing to take them.
It takes a certain type of carelessness to talk to a demon. Elise had that in spades.
This is another edition of “what to do when self-isolating during the plague.” Today I’m focusing on casual art history and poetry education.
If you have generalized anxiety disorder, you’ve probably learned to talk to yourself about death. We all have our own methods, but my general script goes like this: Anxiety: You’re going to die because of X, here are the reasons. Me: I will die someday, and I’m going to take reasonable precautions to postpone that,Continue reading “Sitting with fear and art”
Don’t believe the stories that say at the end of all thingswith the sky fallingwe’ll dive into ever worse warring. We are well equipped to live liminally, for every resting place along our way to become a celebration when we meet. We can be strangers without a word between us and still communicate deeply. We, the wandering species, are as grittyContinue reading “I believe in the kindness of community”
Every day I spend shaking in this shellI get closer to the holywatching my own kindnesses and foibleswhat pains lead me toward humanityand what pains simply drain the self away. Every poem I write is a song for the end of the worldbut I’ve never been good at endingsjust noticing and forgettingand I’m getting worseContinue reading “Art will keep us whole”
I want it finished. Just in case. Just in case it helps someone feel a little better. Just in case it helps me.
Between Death and the Devil: Tarot Poems is out now, and I’m giving away copies for free over at StoryOrigin!
This is better, she thought. I’d rather die fighting anyway.
The demon stepped toward her, and she plunged the shard of wood into his heart.