I am as big and no bigger than a circle

I am round and soft around the edges

I hold the possibility of the world under my shell until a delicate crack runs my yolk through wrenched fingers

Let go of the minutes, hours and days of second guessing

Let go of the loves that you don’t want to love anymore

Let go of the loves who forgot how to love you

It’s been a minute

So much has changed

So much remains the same

I go to a cemetery when I see nothing around me

that reminds me

of me

I am in bone

Tooth

Skin

Nail

I am in body

I am in, through above and in-between all of these things

When the global is personal and the personal is global

i recognize the heartbeat of headlines in my body

boil down the shame

pull back the disconnection

…The question has led me back to one of my favorite spots on the Northside of Chicago, Rosehill Cemetery. Since 2015 some of my favorite walks have been through the grounds of this 350 acre garden cemetery…

“I felt silence in my body when I hit a catch on the platters edge while I was turning a piece of wood from my Maryland stock on my Laguna lathe. I watched the pieces of wood fill my immediate space like fireworks. My excitement and momentum shot up in the air along with the scattered pieces and fell like dust on the ground along with my penetrable, newbie confidence.”