I anthropomorphize things. Back when I owned vehicles, they always had names (rest in peace Solid Gold!). I felt genuinely bad for my old flip cell phone when it was replaced by my splashy iPhone. I apologize to walls when I run into them. And furniture too often becomes like family. Enter the blue armchair. I've had it as long as I've lived in San Francisco. I got it at Thrift Town on Mission street, so it wasn't fancy to start with. It has become less fancy through wear and tear and chocolate stains. When I first got it, the neighbor's cat found it and decided it would smell better with a shot of male cat spray. Forty shots of Febreeze and several months of avoidance later, it thankfully went back to smelling like a chair. It's a little saggy and the back cushion had to be replaced with pillows. It looks like this: I've known for a while that it would someday be returned to the great thrift store in the sky (bless it, it's not actually co
"In the midst of winter I found in me an Invincible Summer." - Camus ...On exploring strength in its many forms: strong people, strong writing, strong curiosity, obsessions, stances, and loves. Strength as a concept wide enough to encompass fear, truth, vulnerability, and joy.