What. A. Quote! Now, here we have the a monolith in name, diction, style, form, class, you name it who’s greatest achievement is rekindling the fire of what makes a novel a novel, or bending, no, rewriting the rules of literature and yet despite all that here he is claiming that all he’s written isContinue reading “The Grandeur of Ordinary Life: James Joyce on Literature About You, Me, And Everyone In Between”
All of these things are true… I had been in Jordan for several weeks and my love affair with Arabian sweets had reached a lofty peak. In fact, I would begin and end each day with a platter of pastries, smothered in honeys and syrups that would flood through heaps of pistachios on my plate. Then it happened… I…Continue reading “On Arabic Sweets and the Middle East: Kunafa – NICHOLAS ANDRIANI”
Get to know Nicholas over this discussion on travel, literature, writing, life, love and losing oneself in the beautiful madness of modern life.
Practicing gratitude? Perserverence? Taking Responsibility? These are just a few of the tools for maintaining a strong mind. Check out my newest article for tips of fulfilling your goals. In other news, applying for scholarships and glaring starry eyed towards Naropa University.
Naomi Shihab Nye on Kindness and the Art of Living a Compassionate Life
Life is in the Little Habits; Or, Why I Make My Bed https://bywayofrenee.wordpress.com/2018/12/16/life-is-in-the-little-habits-or-why-i-make-my-bed/ — Read on bywayofrenee.wordpress.com/2018/12/16/life-is-in-the-little-habits-or-why-i-make-my-bed/
Our story is never-ending.
That to say, I will always love you.
Aware of this dream state which is my tendency to romanticize the past.
“Recently Grammarly asked its social media communities which writing mistakes were the worst kinds of errors.”
Did you know that every week I draw a name from my mailing list and send out a personalized gift?
Sign up and you could be next.
Who knows, if i’m in Morocco maybe i’ll send you a crystal from the Sahara. If in California, a shell. Or if i’m home in my lonely Middle West i’ll send you a book based on our friendship. Or some local chocolates. Mhmmm.. chocolate.
So, what are you waiting for?
Confessions of an Antisocial Writer. Cafes? Don’t do it. For he love of all things Didion! I mean, I get it, there is this undeniable sex appeal. This intrique: scattering your notes across that old bistro set, the heady demitasse begging for your lips: what’s the WiFi code? Nah, I write longhand.
I’m not here to pretend to be some guru or act like I know anymore than you do because, believe me, the older I get, the less I know.
Funny how that works when the world is running wild with “twenty-somethings” peddling Nirvana and life-coaching: really just give me $99 and I promise you’ll feel better. Go ahead, try it.
A strange thing happens when you begin to contemplate the end. It’s as if setting such a definitive goal opens the world to endless possibilities: a phone is buzzing,
Novelist. Reader. Archaeologist.
After high school I hit the road. A spontaneous bus ride to Mexico City led me into the hazy mountains, the deep emerald forests of Chiapas where I discovered the beautiful and heartbreaking world of the Maya (yes, they still exist) and found something deeply rooted, down in my heart of hearts: A need to be part of something greater, to commit myself to people less fortunate.
I mean, it’s not cheating if nothing happens. Oh, but emotions run deep. Which begs the question: What’s worse, an emotional or a physical affair?
I’m afraid of you Standing too close We’ll fall into eternity