Muscle memory

Scars tissue, but so do triumphs. The slope of yesterday's hill has been coded into the fibers of our hips.

Dirty hands

Working late tonight on the bazillionth self-inflicted writing project of my life, I'm grateful to believe in the mechanics of my job.

Some of my friends complain about working long hours for companies whose objectives they share but whose strategies they don't believe in.

I keep signing up to do this stuff because I'm certain that words work.

Keep your lamps

I still keep time by my 2005 earthquake, like the seventh city of Troy. But the candles I lit then to stay alive, which I've kept, are burning out one by one.

Professional calculus

If I don't update this blog very often, it might be because my topical blog is, like, its day job.

This summer, my topical blog also has a day job. Even my topical blog's day job has a day job. But I like to think this one, down at the bottom, is the most integral of them all.

The point is, this blog has a new name for its day job. If you're curious about what I'm doing, stop on over.