I am not crying all the time. I am not cycling through my emotions so rapidly. I am not as dysfunctional as I was a few days ago, but I am aware that I have anxiety over strange things. I know I don’t have to be vigilant all the time, so I’m making myself not … Continue reading Grieving in Quarantine: Day 10
mourn
Grieving in Quarantine: Day 4
This is Cohosh Man. It’s not a man, and it’s not made of cohosh. It’s a sculpture of sorts Ricky made with foam crack filler. The coffee and inhaler make it a still-life. In time, he would become increasingly more dependent on those inhalers. He gave this to me the day that I was flying … Continue reading Grieving in Quarantine: Day 4
Fugitive Umbrellas 
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