flax-golden

maxfield parrish sky She asked me if you could take the train to heaven, because that’s where it looked like the tracks were going. Disappearing into the horizon below a Maxfield Parrish sky. When

tiny cathedrals I will build tiny cathedrals in your name. Constructing each by hand to be certain that their foundations are sound. Time may weather them. It will not matter. If one falls, I

mightier than the sword There is a movement happening, a quiet one. A low-profile, low-resolution revolution. Comprised of writers and dreamers, of guerrilla artists and thought-ninjas. Those with something to say. They communicate through

back in the day My grandmother tells me stories about the way things were when she was young. Mostly they’re about all the things that I have that she didn’t have, or how things

strength in numbers The first day there was one paper robot and my little brother said it was an invasion. I told him one paper robot doesn’t count as a whole invasion. There would

game of chance Pick a duck, any duck. But first, you have to close your eyes. The colors matter, but don’t bother trying to remember which ducks are which color. They spin the bowl