Crusty eyes, if I lay here for a little while longer. What time is it? Shit, the clock. That’s it. Framed ax-yielding reflections and another sex joke. Hard to swallow, this head of mine. Walking shoes on. Hoodie zipped. Ear buds in. Gone girl. The rain beat me to it. A few minutes’ reprieve. Buzz…
Category: art
Dreams: 02-04-15
You were there. And I was there. And so was Nana. Nana and I were at the house, and we were lying out in the gravel driveway, with our necks propped up on our arms. It was almost comforting, massaging. The sun was out. We went back inside to get cushions or blankets. She sat…
Prose: Daydream 05-20-16
This beige carpet is sand. I’m on a beach. The shirts, skirts, shorts around me are ripples, or waves, washing up around me. I tell myself it’s ok that they’re there, that I’m a mess, ’cause I get to dream. That room divider screen can go. And that chair. And most of these clothes. I…
Ruminations: Constantly Creating/Re-Creating
Here. Now. The soil, the herbs, grounding me. The Spanish chocolate, the pool, transporting my senses to the place I really call home, sometimes. The gecko limerickly welcoming us to what’s rightfully his, and forever will be after we’re gone. And now this, a weekend retreat with the ladies, the art, the laughter, the wine…
Anne-Julia Price 