When it takes a whole village to be productive — During the summer of 2014, I found myself unexpectedly (temporarily) unemployed; I work as a paraprofessional and a vocational coach, a job which, despite its more abstract fulfilling aspects, usually financially necessitates I work through the summer. …

Where “Write What You Know” fails — Everything is cyclical. Trends come into favor for a time before fading into obscurity, oblivion, or (for the lucky few), dormancy until that magical time when they are not yet so far removed from our consciousness to be completely forgotten, but far enough removed to be romanticized and gazed at…

Inspiration has never been a problem for me. — Inspiration has never been a problem for me. Inspiration isn’t my issue. Inspiration, if you want to get technical, really only pertains to something that sparks the want to do something creative; it is the mental stimulant, what gets your thought process going, what drives your desire to create. Inspiration…

A Poem —

Wherein We Turn to Tech (but Not in the Way You Think) — There has been a lot written in recent months on the topic of AI generated artwork, and while this is a topic worthy of discussion and examination, it is also a topic that falls well beyond the scope of my humble “how to fill a sketchbook” niche. So, as the…

Make Your Attempts Early and Often, and Grow as You Go — I spent the better part of my life absolutely terrified of failure. It’s not a unique fear, I don’t think. I’d say it’s safe to assume that no one really enjoys failure; even if you’re of the mindset that failure is part of growth, it’s not exactly the most fun…

I am vast; I contain multitudes — My mom has always been fickle when it comes to home decor. Growing up, my dad never had a stake in the way the house looked. He was expected to do his share to keep it clean and organized, obviously, but he never really had any involvement — or, frankly…

Just because you’re not a novelist doesn’t mean you should miss out on the fun — It’s been a hot minute since I’ve actually written anything during NaNoWriMo. …

A Poetic Fragment — She never learned to play herself. There was a part of her that always yearned To try, to find the song hidden in those strings — There was a part of her that thought, perhaps, If she understood the mechanics the magic would be gone. Her father strummed a steel string and sang her The songs he fell in love to — Her lullabies were “Blackbird” and “Wonderful Tonight;” “Daisy Jane” awoke in her a melancholy That she clung to like a well-loved blanket.