Why I Write

New York writer and slam poet, Maggie Estep died yesterday. I have barely read or listened to her work, but her death makes me sad. Maybe it’s because she represented everything I think of myself as not: outspoken, impulsive, creative. Or maybe it is because we were nearly the same age, just turning into our…

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Loss and Beauty

  From the edge of the Grand Canyon I can look into the carved out history of geological time – layers of limestone, sandstone, and shale. I scan the cream colored Kaibab where I stand, down the precipitous Redwall, past Supai tans and purplish Temple Buttes. If I scoot a little closer to the edge,…

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