What remains?

“I’m not angry, Jim. I’m just in love.” Read More

What remains?

A children’s book about death, quantum physics and alcoholism? Read More

What remains?

From: Kris  <kris@email.com> Date: Tue, May 31, 2011 at 12:41 AM Subject: RE: tulip bulbs To: “Chelsea W.” <chelseajaney@gmail.com> Thank you for finally replying.  I understand you’ve been busy, but I know you’ve been avoiding me.  And to answer your question: no.  Why would you suggest that?   I have some work to do, it’s true, with the Read More

What remains?

My daughter once said that peoples’ skulls should be made of glass so everyone could see what each other was thinking. “People aren’t like pies,” I told her. Unlike a pie, you can never know what’s truly inside a person, not ever, not even if he slices himself open and shows you his fruit, not even if he says, “Hello, Read More

What remains?

The starry veil showed up completely out of the blue on the night my dad died.  I had a guitar and was playing a song at his bedside in hospice when it appeared.  He was on percussion, that death rattle cabasa in his throat, and I saw it twinkle from the corner of my eye.  It was a shimmering curtain the length of the Read More

What remains?

Elsie May had one of her legs amputated last weekend.  The dementia has been a frenzied mole digging tunnels through her brain for a long time now.  If her circulation was that horrible, why didn’t they just give her some extra sleepytime chewies and let her drift away? Elsie May is my grandmother, but that doesn’t matter anymore.  She Read More

What remains?

Hunting for meaning is the most natural thing to do when you’re confused. Luckily, you can find it in just about anything if you concentrate hard enough.  All you do is close your eyes as tight as you can, growl to yourself and think hard on the one thing confusing you most. My pursuit of Read More

What remains?

Loving someone from a distance is always preferable to the mud-wrestling and hurt feelings that can happen between dull sublunary lovers when monsoon season arrives.  John Donne was on to something – gold to airy thinness beat and all that.   My love for Kris has been beaten and twisted and stretched out from here to the other side of time-space.  The Valley of Death is all filigree Read More

What remains?

From: Chelsea <chelseajaney@gmail.com> Date: Thu, Mar 10, 2011 at 2:35 PM Subject: Re: easy to love To: Kris  <kris@email.com> I have to tell you something:  I am interested in robots in a sexual way. I’m not just saying that to be an adorable oddball.  You sent me that monkey/prosthetics article and I got so turned on thinking about Read More

What remains?

You just never know when you’re going to start believing in magic again.  For example, today I went to the Calgary Stampede, where I was struck by hailstorm lightning at the top of  a ride called the Donkey Death Kerjigger and woke up underground where I met an ancient Oracle who told me my future and the meaning of life. Have you Read More

What remains?

My obsessions with love and death are collapsing into each other such that I’m not sure I can distinguish them as recognizably different concepts anymore.  The sublime and the tragic are knotted together, so knotted that they seem impossible to disentangle and pull apart to see if there’s anything in between. I know there is a kind of love that Read More

What remains?

I sleep on Kris’ side of the bed now. We used to sleep with our spines pressed against each other.  There have been times between dreams that I’ve thought he was is in bed with me, moments I’ve reached for him or tried to hook my leg around his the way he hated. One night a few weeks ago Read More

What remains?

    I have become, in the last ten years, somewhat familiar with grieving.  I know the stages well.  I know how they all jumble together like in a bingo cage. There is always a temptation to idealize the deceased person and the relationship. Everything is rewritten, at least at first.  We want to feel peaceful in our rememberings, we want to feel Read More

What remains?

Memories are funny stories.  There’s a lot of give and take to them, you can give stuff to them and take stuff away, depending on your mood. “You fucking bitch.  I despise you.  You ruined my fucking life.” Who would say such a thing to me?  How would I respond? “I love you and I Read More

What remains?

I say “Fuck you” a lot these days. Read More

What remains?

Rewind and reset. Read More