2013 Take Two...
Blog
The past is a rogue horse. It stands grazing harmlessly until I am so familiar with it lurking in my background that I hardly see it, until something spooks it and away it goes. It rips through my present with heart thumping and erratic speed, flailing hooves tearing rifts in my careful togetherness. And I cannot watch it go, but must follow. And match. We trash countless blind alleys while I attempt to nudge this snorting black nightmare closer to something solid and dependable like a wall....