Dispatch № 100: Going Deep
Mounds of burnable garbage, bundles of cardboard, stacks of old clothes bound with twine, old furniture broken down into pieces, sandwich bags full of old batteries—just about anything you can imagine, really, and the volume increases strikingly as December’s days run out and the new year approaches.
Dispatch № 99: Decompression
A walk and a comedy podcast on the quiet back streets between the school and the station.
Dispatch № 98: Ode to the Kotatsu
A poem about my favorite piece of furniture
Dispatch № 97: So Much Shouting
Meanwhile, in the library on the eighth floor of the mall, a place that is usually a quiet and happy refuge, I could still hear him bellowing down below.
Dispatch № 96: In Small Pieces
That cat looks like it has a mustache
Dispatch № 95: The Distance
It wasn’t about the cat vomiting behind the couch or the flat tire on the way to work, either. It wasn’t about the spilled water, the broken flowerpot, or the burned toast.
Dispatch № 94: The Light
When you realize that a dream, one that once compelled you into focused action, has all but totally withered away over many years of difficulty, you have a decision to make.
Dispatch № 93: Show-Runner
You can’t control nature any more than you can teach a cat to tap dance.
Dispatch № 92: Sitting on a Mid-River Stone
To simply exist and observe, to notice the small things happening around you, to be aware of your body as an element of the landscape.
Dispatch № 91: Stars and Waters
We’ve been looking up with interest since long before we were human, and when we look up at the night sky now, it may stir within us something ancient and deep…