THE DEEP END: Where the Wild Things Went
How it entices,
the deep end –
a dark danger
painted the colour of mystery
by dodgy individuals dipped in seduction,
masters of lure and cajole.
A LINGUISTIC FANDANGO – Words with hips!
Today, how about a word fandango?
Maybe we swizzle a little salsa on our verbs,
spike our nouns with a glug of bachata,
and serve paso doble with a tumble of adjectives.
THE RICKY MARTIN COUNTDOWN CRISIS: the story of a nutcase desperately trying to get to the concert, sung to the tune of The Teddy Bear’s Picnic
Sung to the tune of THE TEDDY BEAR’S PICNIC
MY NAME IS SERENDIPITY: A love letter to the magic that shows up in life right on time.
My name is Serendipity,
I’m wonder become true.
A fabulous conspiracy
of awesomeness for you.
WONDER WOMAN, UNCORSETED: Long live the wobble, the wiggle, the woman!
Go on, wiggle, jiggle, be free!
MY HORRENDOUS, BEAUTIFUL, SURPRISINGLY GOOD YEAR: Socially obliterating? Absolutely. Soul-crushing? Pas du tout!
A veces bien, y a veces mal, as Ricky Martin says in the song.
COSMIC CHAOS AND ANTI-TNFS: Astrology of Inflixamab
New Moon in Scorpio, Mercury flirting with Venus?
Astrology for Inflixamab
CREATIVITY IN MY MEDICINE CABINET
Enter a sudden renewal of interest in painting, courtesy of a moment of scrolling on Instagram a few weeks ago. I came across someone using teabags to make art. They simply dunked the teabag in water, then set it on watercolour paper and let it sit there for a while, until a stain formed. They removed the teabag, let the paper dry, and then looked for something concrete in the shape.
OPTIMISM STEW
Ideas flutter like postcards from a future so bright we’re going to need tinted windows!
A MANIFESTO FOR JOY: for anyone who forgot they were an artist
For anyone who forgot they were an artist
THE DAY TINKERBELL DIED: the quiet heartbreak of being too kind in a careless world
Sometimes it’s the acquaintances and strangers who surprise us most — those who see us clearly, if only for a moment. And sometimes it’s the friends who don’t, who leave the quiet bruises. This piece is about both — and about choosing to stay open anyway.
YOU MUST TRY YOGA
You mock your meniscus.
Poopoo your herniated disks,
Ignore the worrying cracking noise
that just escaped the mysterious innerworkings of your hip-flexors;
you are – Namastanley exalts – adding life-juice
by crushing your pigeon.