The End of the Shadows

Where Shadows and Dreams Collide

We all had one, or longed to have one; a secret hiding place that seemed to breath magic for anyone willing to sit still long enough to feel it, to hear it, to taste it. For me, it was a hiding spot tucked away under my bed. I would play there, I would cry there, I would dream there. In this little hiding spot I was safe.

Somewhere along the way, though, we've grown out of our secret hiding spaces. Our grown-up minds don't allow us to see the beauty or mystery the way our innocent minds could. We can no longer see the boundaries a simple shadow used to create, the boundary between a mystical play world and the real world that exists just beyond the line of artificial dusk.

This web site is my shadow place. This is where I set my mind free to soar among the abstract and to settle amidst the crevices that lead to my soul. Writing has become my grown-up magic, my adult play place, if you will. Here you will find my poetry, my stories, my thoughts, my words. Here you will find my shadows.

Featured Writings

Stilettos She was standing across the room, all pretty smiles and polite nods. Her white teeth sparkled even despite the dim illumination and her hair caught the odd ray of light from the crystal chandelier, and when it did that it wasn’t just brown anymore, it was gold, magic. She didn’t know she was being watched. If she did, she would have been embarrassed. More		Laugh For me She felt a pang run through her as she remembered a different trip over a different pass, one that included all three of the Calwell siblings. She was only ten. That was fourteen years ago and yet, if she squinted she could make out Ben’s face in the eerie shadows, and if she concentrated, she could feel Jeremy’s tiny fist tightly clutching her wrist. More
Nothing to Say I've nothing to say. It doesn't happen very often, but my mind is blank. No one is screaming to get out, to leak from my private thoughts, into the world of words. No story is crying to be told, nothing is desperately pushing at the confining container that imprisons it, pleading to become reality. More		Starkeeper It’s a legend that’s been passed down through the family lines for generations. None of us are really sure where it started. Who knows, maybe it started in truth and just changed with each telling. It starts with a princess goddess. I’ve been meaning to research her; see what mythology she might have slipped away from. More