There’s a wall by your house. It’s old, decrepit. Sad thing, really. There’s bound to be little furry, slimy things living in its stones. Maybe some beautiful, rare flowers grow just on the other side. Or this is the last refuge of the Fairy Queen and her Sparrow Prince.
Would you look?
Writing has always felt like this to me: a curiosity, something to step towards slowly so I don’t disturb the rest of the world. To stand before, nervous because I don’t know how to find my footing. To finally grip, slip, and fall. To grip again, and again, until I pull myself over the ledge.
What would I see?
These are the adventures I enjoy writing for the young, where the unknown must be sought out before it seeks you out. The threads of this site share my muses of inspiring music and Wisconsin’s landscape, and occasionally some of my writing. I welcome you to share what draws you towards the wall.