Archive - words unheard

[slide of my mother lying on a picnic blanket on a sandy beach while my grandmother reads]

Apr 1, 2024 •

[slide of dinghy, half-submerged. Abandoned.]

Oct 17, 2024 •

[afternoon. unknown park, sun casting tree shadows to the grass below, each trunk a black void jutting against light rippling in a verdant sea, sky…

Sep 16, 2024 •

[slide of my great grandparents, staring out of frame, a bright light casting their shadows on the wall behind them]

Jun 28, 2024 •

[slide of two tomatoes on the vine, held up by two hands, into the sunlight]

May 7, 2024 •

[slide of train tracks running through soledad canyon]

Sep 30, 2024 •

[grave marker labeled: UNKNOWN C258 DECEMBER 7 1941. the weathered stone is bordered by mown grass. at the head: palm wreath, maybe white gladiolas or…

Sep 23, 2024 •

if you’ve seen one you’ve seen all

a poem and obituary for Walnut, a white-naped crane

Mar 28, 2024 •

welcome to words unheard

about this newsletter and my current work-in-progress

Mar 18, 2024 •

leaving Montgomery Park

Apr 21, 2024 •

May 3, 2024 •

welcome to the plasticene

Jun 11, 2024 •

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