A simple place for essays, experiments, and useful ideas.
Notes and essays, organized by date.
All posts
656 published posts across 11 pages.
December 19, 2020
Clark looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of traffic.…
December 16, 2020
A blue jay held still near the road longer than I expected. Traffic kept moving. A door shut somewhere. The bird or animal did not seem interested in becoming a lesson. That is probably why I noticed it. Suburban New Je…
December 15, 2020
A pocket notebook in a coat pocket was enough to slow the afternoon down for a minute. Most days do not announce what they are going to mean. They leave small evidence and let a person decide whether to notice. I am try…
December 14, 2020
A church bulletin folded in half caught my attention and then the day kept moving. Not much to say beyond that. I wrote it down because small things disappear fast.
December 13, 2020
The page of Byron was sitting beside cold coffee, which was probably the right amount of drama for the room. Byron is easy to admire for the wrong reasons. The speed, the pose, the beautiful wound, the refusal to sit st…
December 12, 2020
An old pen sat next to the open page, and Ecclesiastes 3 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks p…
December 10, 2020
A simple plate can feel like a relief when food has become too loud. I understand why people are drawn to fewer choices. It can quiet the bargaining for a while. That does not make it magic, and it does not make it righ…
December 9, 2020
Said a short prayer in the late hour before walking into the next thing. Nothing dramatic happened. It still helped to stop arguing with the day for a minute.
December 9, 2020
The evening started with an old pen on the kitchen table and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer is…
December 9, 2020
Opened Emily Dickinson for five minutes and got more than I deserved from it. Closed the book before I started turning the line into a speech.
December 8, 2020
The evening started with a bus stop bench after rain and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer is ofte…
December 7, 2020
Luke 15 was the page I opened to, and I almost closed it too quickly. Some days a familiar line only needs a second chance.
December 6, 2020
The old war notes I was reading made me think less about speeches and more about boots, mud, and mail. World War I becomes too large to hold if it stays only on maps. The smaller details bring it back down to human size…
December 6, 2020
A pocket notebook sat next to the open page, and Matthew 6 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks…
December 6, 2020
A marked envelope sat next to the open page, and Matthew 6 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks…
December 5, 2020
I had William Blake open with a folded napkin nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the cha…
December 5, 2020
I had George Herbert open with an old pen nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the chair.…
December 3, 2020
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
December 2, 2020
A folded napkin sat next to the open page, and Isaiah 40 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks p…
December 2, 2020
Ecclesiastes 3 showed up again today, this time with a grocery receipt curling near the sink in view. No big lesson. I just noticed that the line had more patience than I did.
December 1, 2020
The shoes were by the door before I felt like walking. That is usually how health works for me. The useful thing has to be started before the mood agrees to it. Sleep, food, walking, lifting, water, less noise. None of…
November 30, 2020
Said a short prayer in the late hour before walking into the next thing. Nothing dramatic happened. It still helped to stop arguing with the day for a minute.
November 29, 2020
A marked envelope sat next to the open page, and Proverbs 3 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walk…
November 28, 2020
The thought started at a bus stop, looking at the places people pass before anyone knows their name. Public lives can look inevitable from a distance. They never are. Everyone starts on some street, in some kitchen, und…
November 27, 2020
Hillside looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of traff…
November 26, 2020
The morning started with cold coffee on the counter and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer is often…
November 24, 2020
Read a little Emily Dickinson and meant to read more, but the day got away from me. One line was enough. Sometimes that is all the room can hold.
November 23, 2020
The thought started at a bus stop, looking at the places people pass before anyone knows their name. Public lives can look inevitable from a distance. They never are. Everyone starts on some street, in some kitchen, und…
November 22, 2020
Fanwood looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of traffi…
November 21, 2020
Wet pavement outside the door caught my attention and then the day kept moving. Not much to say beyond that. I wrote it down because small things disappear fast.
November 20, 2020
The page of Byron was sitting beside a grocery receipt, which was probably the right amount of drama for the room. Byron is easy to admire for the wrong reasons. The speed, the pose, the beautiful wound, the refusal to…
November 20, 2020
An old pen sat next to the open page, and Psalm 23 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks past it…
November 19, 2020
The afternoon started with cold coffee on the counter and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer is oft…
November 18, 2020
Saw a goldfinch near the road and almost missed it. It was there, then it was gone. The street felt a little less ordinary for about five seconds.
November 17, 2020
A chipped mug sat next to the open page, and John 1 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks past i…
November 15, 2020
A simple plate can feel like a relief when food has become too loud. I understand why people are drawn to fewer choices. It can quiet the bargaining for a while. That does not make it magic, and it does not make it righ…
November 14, 2020
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
November 13, 2020
A catbird by the curb made the traffic look briefly ridiculous. Then the light changed and everyone went back to their errands.
November 12, 2020
I had Emily Dickinson open with a library receipt nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the…
November 12, 2020
A chipped mug sat next to the open page, and Psalm 121 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks pas…
November 11, 2020
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
November 11, 2020
The old war notes I was reading made me think less about speeches and more about boots, mud, and mail. World War I becomes too large to hold if it stays only on maps. The smaller details bring it back down to human size…
November 11, 2020
A rabbit held still near the road longer than I expected. Traffic kept moving. A door shut somewhere. The bird or animal did not seem interested in becoming a lesson. That is probably why I noticed it. Suburban New Jers…
November 10, 2020
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
November 9, 2020
Stopped for a minute with a pocket notebook in a coat pocket and said what I could. Some prayers are small because the day is already loud.
November 9, 2020
A deer held still near the road longer than I expected. Traffic kept moving. A door shut somewhere. The bird or animal did not seem interested in becoming a lesson. That is probably why I noticed it. Suburban New Jersey…
November 7, 2020
Read a little William Blake and meant to read more, but the day got away from me. One line was enough. Sometimes that is all the room can hold.
November 6, 2020
The deer moved like it knew the schedule better than I did. I was late. It was not.
November 5, 2020
The table in Roselle Park had a paper napkin under one leg and coffee that had been sitting too long. That is not a complaint. Some meals are remembered because the room makes room for a tired person. Neighborhood food…
November 4, 2020
A simple plate can feel like a relief when food has become too loud. I understand why people are drawn to fewer choices. It can quiet the bargaining for a while. That does not make it magic, and it does not make it righ…
November 3, 2020
The morning started with wet pavement outside the door and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer is of…
November 2, 2020
The late hour started with a pocket notebook in a coat pocket and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Praye…
November 1, 2020
Mountainside looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of t…
October 31, 2020
The shoes were by the door before I felt like walking. That is usually how health works for me. The useful thing has to be started before the mood agrees to it. Sleep, food, walking, lifting, water, less noise. None of…
October 30, 2020
Roselle looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of traffi…
October 29, 2020
Union looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of traffic.…