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Embers eternal

  • 24 January 2018
Embers eternal but we’re a ways from raging with the fire Roll another one and take me back…
llifestyle
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Any sport will do: absurd but awesome

  • 7 February 2017
I love sport both on an emotional and a philosophical level. Here’s why. I love the contradictions in sport. I love how it is rational yet irrational, meaningless yet so imbued with significance, universal yet elite, aggressive and divisive yet a unifying force.
ttravel
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A cure for emotional jetlag

  • 13 December 2016
You've been feeling jetlagged this last week although you never left the state, let alone the time zone. Sometimes the world and your past come to you.
ffaith
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Just another earthquake?

  • 19 April 2016
I didn’t think much of the earthquake, to be honest. And I’m going to be very honest about this.…
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The opposite of vertigo

  • 3 February 2016
The opposite of vertigo Is your wings poised for flight and your feet stuck in cement; Is the skyward pull that makes you ill to be on the ground. Gravity versus your dreams. The opposite of vertigo Is conversations about the weather and getting angry at traffic; Is display windows taunting you with things that won’t make you happy. You can see right through them. From the pit of your stomach to the tip of your tongue the air here’s thick, swallows up inspiration. The opposite of vertigo Is the sickening sensation of settling; Is being shackled when you should be airborne. The opposite of vertigo Is the curse of those who come down from altitude; Is the Icarus in you and me.
wwork
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Victor

  • 11 June 2015
I. It was perfect in a bittersweet way The overcast day The fresh flowers The waiting The shades of black and grey The Padre Nuestro The father’s chanting II. They ushered him through a maze of flagstones well-polished by the varnish of water and the heavy footsteps of generations of mourners. For fifty pesos a stranger sang as we showered him with rose petals and rain. Amidst her wailing and her brothers’ silent despair and the cement mixed and laid thick to immortalise him, the sky stops crying and its blue eyes blink and I, for a moment, stare into eternity, into sorrow, into loss, into hope. Avenues upon avenues of memories in this city of the departed; yards and yards of carnations doing their best to defy time - but who can resist? Grief made her embrace linger, made us angels without wings, and stranded on earth, but angels nonetheless. III. Another Padre Nuestro Another sigh Another moment without him The first of too many.