Something said by Suzanne Rouvier, a character from Somerset Maugham’s The Razor’s Edge, haunts me. A painter’s mistress, Suzanne made a living by posing, and when those artisanal springs stopped flowing, she found the next artist. Living in Paris during the early 1900s, her mix of lanky limbs, fair skin, and bright blue eyes were in … Continue reading Newsletter #143: Once Begun, Better Finish
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Newsletter #140: Fighting the Fevers with Fire
I’m shivering under a scalding shower, trying to fight the fever with fire. The pyrexic mind is a toxic place, an environment that should never be trusted. But I only know this when my temperature is below 100 degrees. As water pours onto my head and neck, I ruminate on the prospects of my memoir, … Continue reading Newsletter #140: Fighting the Fevers with Fire
Newsletter #139: Running Hills
To run in Asheville was to run hills. As my neighbor, a cyclist, put it, “I can’t pedal down my driveway without starting a 1000-foot climb.” A plainsmen by birth, I knew the wind, but I knew no incline. Slowly, I adapted, developing a collection of hill-conquering strategies, most of which centered around not looking … Continue reading Newsletter #139: Running Hills
Newsletter #136: High-Stakes Barefoot Poker
For a year in California, I rented a casita in a family’s backyard. Upsides: fifty-foot pine tree right outside my door, listening to the kids practice piano, only five minutes from the hospital. Downsides: minimal privacy, listening to the kids practice piano, only five minutes from the hospital. As a habit, one I still practice … Continue reading Newsletter #136: High-Stakes Barefoot Poker
Newsletter #120: A Sterile Field No More
Pardon if the punctuation is loose, the memory fuzzed. I had surgery this morning. A small repair to my left hand. Still, midazolam is taking its sweet time through its half-life. I'm blowtorching sentences out of cobwebbed corners. Let us begin and pray the midazolam picks up the metabolic pace. The hardest year of my … Continue reading Newsletter #120: A Sterile Field No More
Newsletter #114: Nowhere to Hide, At Last
The drive to Children's Hospital was fifteen minutes, just enough time to forge 90 days of blood sugar readings. Pen in hand, riding in the backseat of my parents' car, I'd scribble fabrications into my logbook. 132. 289. 71. 320. 97. 120. 62. 205. 110. When my parents would ask their ten-year-old what he was … Continue reading Newsletter #114: Nowhere to Hide, At Last
Newsletter #109: My White Lotus Liberation
It's been a month since I finished White Lotus, Season 3. It's been a month since I started White Lotus, Season 1. Do the math. Not many days. Many episodes. No regrets. Since, I've watched other shows. I've also watched enough NBA playoffs to predict when the next commercial will be a Wingstop commercial. But … Continue reading Newsletter #109: My White Lotus Liberation
Newsletter #109: Everyone Wants to Individuate
Last week, as discussed, I got a tattoo on my forearm. And I was excited. Then, I went to Oklahoma City for the weekend. Soon enough, I found myself seated on a row amongst my family at my cousin's high school graduation. I glanced down the row. I saw a lot of forearms. Aside from … Continue reading Newsletter #109: Everyone Wants to Individuate
Newsletter #99: Where I Use to See Bears, I Saw Shipping Containers
Jiving hip-to-hip with the French Broad River, Amboy Road was my favorite cross-cut through Asheville. A superb scenic route, it had the essentials: views of flowing water, panoramas of an expansive park, trails full of conversing groups, and curiously, an old Nascar short-track converted into an outdoor cycling velodrome. On harder days, ones where I … Continue reading Newsletter #99: Where I Use to See Bears, I Saw Shipping Containers
Newsletter #97: To Hell in a Handbasket, or…
I wrestled my backpack free from under the seat and unzipped its front. My fingers traced the pocket's compartments, searching for the rounded contour of my AirPods. They found nothing. Except a rock-hard, half-eaten Larabar from trips past. This is gonna be a loooonng cross-country flight. I did have a steaming cup of black coffee … Continue reading Newsletter #97: To Hell in a Handbasket, or…