I’m returning from my walk along the river that never was.
I couldn’t tell The Maestro when I visited in his last weeks, that Bernard and I were no longer together, I didn’t want to sadden him, to steal away any of the little remaining energy he had left to stay alive; he was so weak with the disease.
Read MoreI had an appointment with a talent agent today at 3:30. I missed it. The fates came to visit. On Melvin Street. In the body of a tortoise-shell cat.
Read MoreThe call comes as a voicemail message from Tomson Highway himself. On it, he says
- I don't know if you remember me.
He proceeds to leave a cryptic message about the possibility of an upcoming opportunity, which he is not at liberty to discuss, and would I please return his call at the earliest convenience?
Read Moreperceiving change… a practice of noticing… a moment of opening…
Read MoreToday is the day, I told myself yesterday.
Read MoreChez nous. C’est la place à laquelle je n’appartiens plus. Je languis loin de ma patrie. Loin. Loin.
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