Edvard Munch wrote, “art is your heart’s blood.” The writer did not mean this in a literal sense, yet, we as observers cannot help but assume the crimson ink leaking from an artist’s brush emerges directly from its welders’ skin. Surely, the sienna hues dancing across Dali’s Persistence of Memory could only fuse so richly…
Grand Teton National Park
I recently read an excerpt from Henry David Thoreau’s book, Walden. Thoreau is a philosopher and author who took off to the woods for two years in hopes of finding a deeper connection with nature. This is a form of philosophy called transcendentalism. After having read his excerpt, I began to reflect on my summer…
The Story of a Music Lover
I have some vivid memories of my childhood. I remember the way the sun would filter through the drawn curtains, creating a soft illuminating glow at the foot of the French doors. I remember sitting on the carpet in the family room after church on Sunday, listening to the angelic voice of Carole King flowing…
Rock + Rolling with Eden
7:00pm on the dot. One line of fans zigzagged along the luminescent nightclub, streetlights that scorch squinted eyes like sunlight in the morning, and moderately loud chit chatter that increases as guards prepare music lovers for what they proclaim to be the greatest night of the year. He looks at me as we stand, pondering…
Golden Dandelions 