I'm a Hollywood, CA native who writes fiction, plays, essays & poetry. A common theme of mine is embracing your youness by not following the fold.
Also, I'm a TV/film actor & mixed media artist.
My book is out! -> https://amzn.to/3xL4hMI
A car too purple A sky too wet sometimes it’s all too much. but other times oh those sweet, sweet other times those other times
Is It Hot in Here?
It’s the summer of 1998 and I’m watching Heather as she lies naked on her sundeck typing away on her laptop, sipping a wine spritzer, and singing along to her clock radio.
When Opportunity Knocks
It was a snowy day in Cleveland. I sat alone in my much-too-large-for-only-one-person-apartment, wondering. Wondering entirely-too-intensely-about-everything-I-could-think-of. Has anyone ever died from eating non-cooked Toll House cookie dough? How long would it take to save up enough lint to make a sweater? Would George Clooney like me? If my neighbor started secretly feeding my cat Fancy Feast would Ms. Fluffypants desert me for the better meal? If I had a significant other in my life would I be boring him to tears with my ponderings?
Do you remember our drives to the sea? Singing to the oldies station in your Dodge Dart. Dry heat in triple digits, grateful for the AC,
The Great Freak-Out
It was 2:00 in the morning when Richard got the grand idea. He wanted to write. He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to write. A poem, a novel, a screenplay, a letter, a memo — it didn’t matter. Richard had to write and he had to do it now. His girlfriend sleeps soundly beside him as he carefully crawls over her to get his laptop. A writer’s best friend, the laptop. Reliably ever-present and awaiting your next burst of literary genius. A writer’s worst enemy, a constant reminder that you never seem to have any bursts of literary genius.
The Saddest Fruit Bowl
you say you want peace who doesn't? madmen, maybe but we are not mad some of us are not even men a bowl of apples and figs
Did the director send you? Steven’s eyes are wide open, he looks at me confused, frightened, like a child. I don’t know if I should reassure him or call 911. It’s 3:30 in the morning and he woke up disoriented in a puddle of sweat.
Matching Violet Auras
oh to believe in the unbelievable we had such fun at the fair there was a booth with a man taking photos of people’s auras